Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 1 - Chapitre 10

It's extremely hot and i put away my covers and roll to the other side of the bed. It had been a very tiresome day and had it not been for my mother's screams I believe I would have slept through it all. I wake up to smoke in my room. I open my bedroom door and see my parents through flames standing across the hall, outside their room. "Vienna, get out!" my father screams at me as I stand frozen. My room is beside the stair way, but my legs feel heavy. I look at them, I cannot leave them there. Logically I know there is no way they can make it across the fire to me, but i can't move. The fire is getting stronger and I start feeling my skin itch from the intense heat. "Vienna Starr Kilmartin run!" this time it's my mother. I look at them as they hold each other. Whether it was to comfort each other or to keep each other from collapsing from the smoke I have never known. "It's okay love, go," my mother says softly between coughs. I turn to leave as they slide down to the floor together

One of the reasons I chose psychiatry was there is rarely any kind of emmergency that cannot wait until morning. That means I get to sleep through the night and not worry that my patients may be dying. So when my phone started to ring in the middle of the night, I took a pillow and covered my ears and went back to sleep. In the morning I get up and find that I have two messages on my voicemail. The first is from an unfamiliar number and the calller does not identify himself. "Hello, sorry to disturb your sleep but I was wondering if you think a life should be repaid by a life? If not what do you think is an equivalent of someone's life? Do you think gender,age or the income of someone should be used to calculate the value of their life? And what about the dignity of someones death. As someone who's been experimenting with death yourself how do you measure someones' worth before deciding to send them off to their deaths?" I look back at my phone. I feel like someone is watching me. Wh

I hear a voice from a distance. I try to open my eyes but the light is too bright and I close them as soon as I do. "Hey, how are you feeling" I hear a familiar voice I cannot place. "You were supposed to come meet me yesterday and you did not show nor leave a message," I try to think what appointments I had yesterday. Then it hit me and I open my eyes. Just what I thought it's detective Swindle. He is sitting besides me with concern written all over his face.He helps me sit up. "How did you know where I live?" I notice the basin of water and the towel on the table. "After work I passed by your office and your assistant said you had not shown up the whole day and you were not answering your phone so I asked for your address." He wring the towel, places it over my forehead and holds it with his left hand. He is super close to me and I feel him trying to avoid eye contact. "So you were that worried about me," he shuffles uncomfortably. He brings my left hand up to hold the the towel.

I wake up drenched in sweat, "mommy!" It's been a long while since I have had the nighmare of the fire. I am really glad it's my day off. After shower and a quick cup of coffee, I decide to spend my day doing my favourite things. My first stop is an art gallery that recently opened. I have been planning on checking it out but hadn't had the chance. There was a lot going on in my mind and my plan was to distract myself enough not to think of any of that madness. I did not like driving but on rare occassions I enjoyed it, today being one of them. I enjoy the feeling of the breeze from the sea as I drive to the art gallery. The place is different than I had expected. For a small town, every business owner tries to bend to the conservative ways of the town. But not this one, the pieces are wild, exquisite and have nothing conservative about them. One especially draws me in. It is of a woman standing in the patio of a small house watching the sunset over the hill. Its simplicity comforts

We have been sitting in silence for twenty minutes since I told Jade about her mother. She had not said anything and I was starting to get worried. I had decided on telling her once we got to my apartment instead of at Rochelle's. I decide to bring her some water. After drinking the water I can see her slowly get over the shock. "You mean she's been alive all this time?" It's still hard for her to believe everything she has just heard. "Yes, sweetheart," I try to assess what she is thinking. "She has no memory of anything or anyone before the accident." I try to explain why she never reached out. She is holding the now empty cup like it has the answers she is looking for. "Maybe." "What do you mean by maybe?" I ask. "I'm just saying with who she was before the accident, it would have been easier for her to run away from us if she had her memory than if she didn't," she finally puts the cup on the table. "She wasn't running, she was in an accident Jade," I look at her and she smiles we