Chapter Three - Losing Perspective

A flood of images assaulted Gina. As soon as she saw the young man, her dreams came rushing back into her mind with the fury of a raging river. They came so quickly that she had a hard time distinguishing one image from the next. One thing was clear though, this young man had to be involved somehow.

“What have you done to me?” Gina screamed as she pointed her finger at the young man. The young man was so startled by this new turn of events that he wasn’t sure what to do and as a result he did nothing. He did nothing but stare at Gina who at this point was on the verge of hysterics.

“I know you know.” She screamed, appearing to the few spectators watching the scene unfold that she must be losing her mind. The fact was that she was losing her mind. In that moment she had a hard time telling what was real and what was imagined.

The young man didn’t know what to say and there was probably nothing he could say that would have calmed the situation. Gina had gone into full rage mode in just a matter of seconds.

“Don’t just sit there, tell me!” Gina continued screaming. The nurse came over quickly to intervene. She put her hands on Gina’s shoulders and in a soothing voice tried to calm her down.

“It’s okay. Whatever is happening to you we will get to the bottom of it.” She said, “It’s going to be alright.”

“But he knows” Gina protested, “He knows what is happening to me. I see him in my nightmares.”

“He’s just another student.” The nurse explained, “He’s not responsible for whatever is happening to you.” The nurse motioned for the young man to get up and he did so without much prodding and exited the room.

The nurse had Gina lie down and she was excused from the rest of her classes for the rest of the day. The school counselor was summoned to speak with her. If Gina was having some sort of breakdown, the school didn’t want to be held liable for failing to act accordingly.

After Gina had calmed down, she was sent to the counselor’s office. The counselor’s office was a drab little room and just by its mere presence it had the ability to cause those who entered into it to fall into a depression. The counselor, who at this point in his career was tired of dealing with teenage drama, sighed for a moment and then began his interrogation.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” The counselor started. Usually, it didn’t take much prodding for students to start spilling their guts. The only exception to that was if some incident happened and the students were all afraid of what would happen to them socially and sometimes physically if they squealed.

“I don’t know” Gina started, “I keep having these dreams that I don’t remember, and I want to remember them because I think they are important but when I saw that guy in the nurse’s office, I remembered my dream because he was in it.”

“Do you remember your dream now?” The counselor continued. There was a time when he cared about helping students but that was years ago. Now he just goes through the motions and prescribes textbook solutions that may or may not actually fit the circumstances that are relayed to him. Gina tried to remember the dreams. She tried hard, but she just couldn’t. It was frustrating. “I don’t remember” Gina finally confessed.

“Do you have any enemies?” The counselor asked, “Is there anyone that would want to see you dead.”

“No” Gina responded a bit creeped out by the question, “Why would you ask me such a thing!”

“These are just standard questions I’m supposed to ask.” The counselor responded indifferently, “Do you believe that anyone is ‘out to get you’?” The counselor continued.

“No, everyone likes me.” Gina didn’t like the direction these questions were taking or the apparent indifference of the counselor, “Do you even know what you are doing?” Gina accused.

“It’s a process” The counselor explained, “Over my many years of trying to help students such as yourself, I’ve learned to trust it no matter how cold or callous it appears.” The counselor’s voice seemed almost too even and robotic, and it sent chills down Gina’s spine.

“Do you personally know the young man in the nurse’s office?” The counselor asked.

“No.” Gina answered.

“So, you’ve never met him in real life, you’ve only seen him in your dreams. Is that right?” The counselor continued.

“Yes, that’s right. At least I think that’s right” Gina reasoned.

“Have you seen him around school before today?” The counselor followed up.

“I don’t remember ever seeing him before today.” Gina confirmed.

“Thank you for your cooperation, you have been very helpful” the counselor concluded.

“That’s it.” Gina asked.

“That’s it” The counselor confirmed.

“You don’t want to ask me any more questions.” Gina probed.

“No, I think I’ve got all the information I need.” The counselor restated.

“What’s wrong with me?” Gina asked hopefully.

“You are suffering from some kind of memory block.” The counselor announced.

“What is causing it?” Gina asked further.

“Oh, there could be a lot of different reasons, The most common cause is that you’ve gone through some kind of traumatic event that your mind doesn’t want you to remember because if you remember there will be tremendous emotional pain.”

“Do you think that’s what happened to me?” Gina asked hopefully.

“It’s possible but the more likely cause is that someone’s put some kind of curse on you. Are you sure you don’t know of anyone that hates your guts with the passion of a dying super nova?”

“What?!?!?!? What kind of psychiatrist are you? Are curses even a thing?!” Gina raised her voice in disgust.

“Sure, they are, and it happens more often that you think.” The counselor responded.