CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"Everyone started calling me Amy, and I lost myself completely. My face, my body, my personality – everything that made me, me, was gone."
The therapist nodded empathetically, pretending to grasp the tangled threads of Cherry's story, and asked with a warm smile,
"So, who are you, beneath all these layers?"
Cherry's eyes lit up, her hands rising in a triumphant gesture.
"Finally, someone who gets me!"
She exclaimed, her voice dripping with relief. "I'm Cherry, Cherry Rubio," she declared, as if she was introducing herself for the first time.
The doctor's tone dripped with sarcasm as she said,
"Oh, Cherry, isn't it sweet? Just pop these magic pills, and voilà! Your identity crisis will vanish like magic!"
She snapped her fingers, summoning her assistant with a flick of her wrist.
"Nurse Thompson, please bring in the special cocktail for our dear Cherry. I'm sure it'll fix everything," she said, her voice was heavy with eye-rolling skepticism.
Cherry's eyes narrowed, as the nurse bustled in with a clipboard and a patronizing smile.
"Will it really change me back to myself?" Cherry asked, with hope in her eyes.
The therapist nodded reassuringly, but her smile was a thin-lipped lie.
"Of course, dear. This will fix everything." She pushed a handful of pills across the table as the nurse prepared a syringe, its needle glinting in the light.
Cherry's eyes widened as the nurse approached her with the injection.
"What's that for?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion. The therapist's tone was saccharine sweet.
"Oh, that is just a little something to help you relax. You were sleepy when you...shifted, weren't you?
So, we'll just induce a nice long nap, and who knows? Maybe when you wake up, you'll be back to your old self."
"With surrender, Cherry whispered,
"Okay...let it in.'
She felt relief over her as the injection coursed through her veins, carrying with it the promise of transformation.
A soft smile spread across her face as she drifted off to sleep.
Maybe, just maybe, when she woke up, she'd be herself again.
The therapist watched her patient slip into slumber, then packed up her kit alongside the nurse and stepped out into the hallway, where she was met with an unexpected presence–Amy's mom, standing guard outside Amy's room.
Amy's mom wrung her hands, her brow furrowed with concern.
"What did she say? Did she finally open up to you?"
The therapist's expression was reassuring, but her words carried slight evasion.
"Don't worry, ma'am, Cherry will be fine. For now, she just needs rest. As for what she said...well, it was a bit of a jumbled mess, to be honest.
Some fantastical tale that didn't quite add up. But don't worry, we'll get to the bottom of this. We'll uncover the root of this traumatic experience and help her work through it."
Amy's mom stood frozen, her eyes almost brimming with tears as she gazed at the door to her daughter's room.
The weight of her worry seemed to crush her, her shoulders sagging under the burden of uncertainty. The therapist's words cut through her despair
"My assistant has administered a sedative to keep Cherry calm for the next four hours. Please, make sure she's comfortable and safe until I return for the next session."
With that, the doctor turned to leave and her steps echoed down the hallway.
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Cherry's eyes fluttered open, and she was met with a sight that made her heart soar - she was herself again! Her face, her eyes, her curves... everything was back to normal.
Overjoyed, she threw off the covers and made a run for it, eager to escape the city and return to the comfort of her own home.
But her triumph was short-lived.
A loud clicking noise pierced her ears, followed by the gentle touch on her toes.
Her eyes snapped back into focus, and she found herself staring up at the ceiling of the bedroom. [ It was just a dream]
It had all been a dream... or had it? She thought.
As Cherry slowly emerged from the fog of her four-and-a-half-hour slumber, the world around her seemed shrouded in a haze.
Groggily, she struggled to shake off the remnants of sleep, her mind grasping for clarity.
Finally, consciousness dawned.
The chef's voice cut through her thoughts,
"I was told to prepare this soup for you, ma'am. Lady Yo instructed me to serve it to you."
Cherry's gaze narrowed.
"Get me a mirror," she demanded.
The chef's expression was a picture of perplexity.
What could Amy possibly want with a mirror after a long sleep? But she didn't dare question her boss's instructions.
"Ok, ma'am," she replied.
She quickly retreated from the room, leaving Cherry to her thoughts.
The sound of her footsteps sounded in the room as she hastened to fetch the mirror.
Cherry's gaze remained locked on the chef, her mind, a whirlwind of anticipation and uncertainty.
'Would her reflection show the familiar contours of her own face, or the stranger's features that still haunts her?'
Had it all really been a vivid dream, a product of her own fevered imagination? Or had it been a glimpse of a future yet to come? She calculated the time.
If her journey to her city had been real, she would be back in her city by now, surrounded by the familiar comforts of home.
But since she was still here, it must have been just a dream... or was it?
The chef returned with a majestic golden-framed mirror, its width a slender 12 centimeters and its length a stately 32 centimeters.
Cherry's voice trembled slightly as she instructed, "Turn it towards yourself, please." She wasn't ready to confront her own reflection just yet, her anxiety still simmering just below the surface.
But she had faith in the therapist's words, and so she steeled herself for the revelation.
The chef obligingly turned the mirror towards herself, her own face a picture of calm curiosity.
Then, with a gentle step, she approached Cherry.