As strong gusts of wind blew bed sheets hanging on a clothing line in a backyard, lightning struck, stretching across the dark gray overcast, followed by stone cracking echoes of thunder. Mia stood in front of the backyard screen door watching, wearing a well fitted bathing suit that complimented her firm, freckled breasts and highlighted the crease of her heart shaped derriere. As the combination of lighting and thunder grew more violent, she slowly opened the screen door, stepped outside and began to walk towards the hanging white bed sheets that were dancing in the wind. She walked through the patio into the grass. The texture was a freezing-cold frost from chilled dew on mush like glazed spinach, causing her to leave small footprints embedded in each step.
She pushed the sheets aside, revealing an eerie swimming pool distanced at the far end of the yard and began to walk towards it. The wind became more agitated, aiming its velocity towards her, sending a cool electric chill through her body that pronounced the imprint of her now firm nipples. As Mia got closer to the pool, her heart began to thump a pulse that sent bass through her bones.
As the thunder cracked again…
POW!!!
Mia snapped out of her daydream sitting across from Dean Scott Michaels, head of the University's Psychology Department.
Dean Michaels was a tall, handsome, 50 something man with a head of gray hair and a healthy physique that advertised his physical discipline. He had a healthy head of dark hair with a strike of gray on the sides. What Carrie was to Melissa, Scott served as the same physical and emotional competition for Walter. Mia's family was being torn apart by scandal and she was the only one motivated to put the pieces back together.
The two continued to gaze at each other for seconds until Scott broke the silence. "So, Ms. Cartwell... how are you, how's everything coming together?" Mia hesitated to reply but eventually muttered "I'm fine. Minor hallucinations and intrusive thoughts, notwithstanding" Scott anxiously tapped his pen on his oak paneled desk leaving small indentations. "You know, not for nothing, Mia, but hallucinations aren't a side effect of Zoloft. It's definitely in the ballpark of even the lowest milligram of Vicodin or small traces of fentanyl, when you mix them with uppers-"
"Look--I didn't come for your diagnosis or opinion for that matter" Mia quickly interrupted.
"It wasnt nearly an opinion. Speedballing leads to serotonin syndrome, which leads to severe paranoia, increased heart rate--you can't even stop your legs from shaking and it's sixty-nine degrees in here" Scott said. Mia regained control of her legs.
"I'm recommending rehabilitation to both Dr. Plummer and Melissa, effective immediately actually"
"I came by to ask you for a favor. A request actually" She said. "Ok, I'm all ears"
"My mother is going to come to you to borrow some money, I assume. Considering the federal government is monitoring our accounts, probably anywhere north of $75,000 which would be enough for us to get through fall, after the election, I'm assuming. I need you NOT to give it to her. Don't pretend like you don't have it. Everyone around here seems to be benefiting underhandedly off the goodwill of others"
Scott chuckled.
"Have you completely lost your mind?" he asked. "One out of two doctors seem to think so. I really would appreciate it if you were the second doctor, right now" "I'd give Melissa the money, irregardless of whatever type of relationship you think I have with your mother" "Irregardless? The regard would probably come from my father but then again I make it a priority to stay out of grown folks business. But when you cross the line and put a price on an already diminishing marriage, by way of a $2,000 zirconia from fuckin Temu--the risks kind of outweigh the rewards, wouldnt you say?"
"Now why should I believe that you and your mother would discuss extra-marital affairs?" "You shouldn't believe that because we don't but I do recall the same CUSTOM piece being worn- ever so often-by Samantha Davies, about 7 years ago. Back when she was fifteen years old. Now I don't know how you feel about my little theory but I'm sure Phil Davies might have peak interest in regards to his daughter's lack of innocence. How much do you think it would cost to bribe a jeweler for a customer inquiry? $2,000?"
(Brief silence)
The two locked eyes in what became a brief stare off.
"Maybe you should focus on your own demons, instead of coming up with these inflammatory theories, Mia"
"And maybe you should treat your dick, like your money, and keep it in your pants. Like I said before, the price you're putting on the integrity of my family, I feel the need to pull the elitist card on you, dude" Mia said. "Fair enough. But for the sake of being grounded in reality, let me ask you something. Do you think your mother wants to relocate to New York to get away from your father? To restart her career? Leave her businesses behind? The political pull she'd have from being married to a potential Governor, who's being groomed by the Democratic National Committee?" Scott asked. He turned his attention to the laptop on his desk, typing swiftly before turning the screen around for Mia to see:
"Park Hill Rehabilitation Facility. The best opioid recovery clinic in North America. Programs lasting anywhere from a month to a year- pricing for inpatient care, a year max, somewhere north of $70,000. But with your deductive reasoning, it's safe to say you knew that already" Scott said calmly, while Mia remained silent. Unable to come up with a reasonable retort, looking down with a burning resent for the truth, which was no longer on her side.
"Mia, I want you to listen to me. I'm not here to take pity on you, nor do I want to sabotage your family. Frankly, I feel like this is a conversation you should be having with Walter--frankly". She remained silent, while the rain outside began to pick up, getting louder. Slightly cutting the tension in the room. "This is a slippery slope that you're on right now. The drugs, isolation, alcohol, sleep deprivation, self-harm" Scott said as he dropped his eyes towards Mia's wrist, which she covered with the sleeves of her hoody.
"You need help, Mia. I know you don't want to hear this but at this point it'll take a miracle for your parents to stay together, compiled with the fact that not one facility in this state will have you; I mean we can both agree you made that abundantly clear by your previous actions" Scott said. "What can I say--I'm feral. And apparently out of options since you want to keep hosting this pity party" Mia said before reaching in her bag and pulling out a golden banded, zirconia bracelet. She tossed it on his desk. He picked it up and examined it.
"You have a young daughter, don't you? Ten years from now you'll come to find that we can be particularly chatty creatures. Word of mouth alone, it would have just been the fantasy of a teenage girl- sleeping with a grown married man. But the subtle engraving under the band is the smoking gun. To S.D. from S.M. Hmmm . That narrows the list a bit, wouldn't you say?" Mia added, leaving Scott with a false smile. " I don't do inflammatory theories, Dean Michaels. I'm a fucking junkie because I'm trying to deal with reality not run away from it"
"What am I supposed to do with this bracelet, Mia?" "Keep it. It might seem like I have a chip on my shoulder but you have to believe me when I say, I'm actually doing you a favor with this one" Scott chuckled before tossing the bracelet onto his desk. "Are we about done here?" he asked. "Yeah we're done" Mia replied before rising from the chair and walking towards the door. She opened it. "I apologize for bringing your daughter into this" she said before exiting.
Scott sat speechless. She headed for the women's bathroom down the hall, kicked the door open and quickly opened the first stall. She aimed for the toiled, focused on her mark and vomited profusely. COUGH! COUGH!
She wiped her mouth with the bottom portion of her blue jean button up. Her phone began to vibrate in her back pocket as she rose to her feet. A text from Sam. She was waiting at the UW train station.
As Mia tucked the phone back into her back pocket, the bathroom door opened.
BANG!
"The fuck?" She whispered to herself.
There is a brief pause in movement before the bathroom lights were turned off leaving the bathroom dimly lit by daylight from the windows. She looked under the stall but only saw black boots and black pants accompanied by heavy footsteps. Mia climbed on the toilet seat and pulled out her taser from her bag, clutching it for dear life. Suddenly the first stall out of six, was kicked open.
BANG!
Mia placed her hand over her mouth and took giant panic breaths. The second stall was kicked in.
BANG!
The stranger then aimed a well lit flashlight under the stalls, checking for an occupant. But saw none. He made his way to the third stall, now one stall away from Mia. She calmly dropped from the toilet seat. He aimed the flashlight into the stall. Nothing. He made his way to the next one. Mia began to crawl under the small space, towards the neighboring stall in a well-timed fashion. He kicked it open. Beamed the light. Nothing. On to the next. She made it to the first stall and quickly opened it. He kicked in the last stall.
At the same time Mia jolted out of the restroom, running directly into the janitor's cart in the middle of the hallway. THUMP!
She realized it was just the custodian, to her own chagrin. What the fuck is happening to me? She whispered to herself. She began to breathe heavily. Sharp inhales. Heavy exhales. She slung the bag over shoulder and made her way out of the building.