Jason sat on the plush, cream-colored couch in the therapist's office, staring at the modern painting that hung on the wall. The painting, like most things in Eden, was something he wasn't used to—sharp, bright colors with abstract shapes that meant nothing to him. He fidgeted with the sleeve of his finely tailored shirt, another thing he still couldn't quite believe was his. He had grown up with rags on his back, and now here he was, wrapped in luxury.
"Jason?" Dr. Remis's voice, calm and measured, cut through his thoughts. "You've been quiet for a while. Are you feeling overwhelmed today?"
Jason blinked and looked at the therapist. Dr. Remis was an older woman with soft gray hair and an ever-patient expression. This was his fourth or fifth session—he couldn't quite remember anymore—and every time, she had that same look, like nothing he said would surprise or shake her.
"Yeah, a bit," Jason admitted, his voice hoarse. "It's... everything, I guess. I know we've been over this before, but I still can't wrap my head around it. It's like I'm living someone else's life."
"You've said before that you feel unworthy of all that Eden offers. Do you still feel that way?" Dr. Remis asked gently, leaning forward with her pen ready.
Jason sighed, rubbing his face. "Yeah. It's just—look at me. I used to sleep on dirt floors, barely got enough food to survive, and now I have my own place. Hot water whenever I want. Clean clothes. It doesn't feel real, and when I see my friends... it's like they've all forgotten what we went through."
He looked out the window, where the skyline of Eden stretched out. The massive rings of buildings surrounded the White House at the city's heart, and from his therapist's office on one of the upper floors, the view was stunning. The desert stretched far in the distance, but inside the walls, it was green, clean, and thriving. Almost perfect.
"They go out dancing, living their lives like none of it happened. I wish I could be like that, but I can't. Every time I close my eyes, I'm back there, in Qarth, hearing the crack of whips, smelling the blood. I don't know how they just... let it go."
Dr. Remis nodded thoughtfully, letting him speak. "It's understandable that you feel this way, Jason. Trauma affects everyone differently. Just because your friends have found ways to move forward doesn't mean that your experience is any less valid. Healing takes time."
Jason shifted uncomfortably, tapping his fingers against his knee. "I get that. I do. But... it's like I'm the only one who can't keep up. They're all laughing and happy, and I feel like the broken one."
"Do you feel isolated from them?" Dr. Remis asked, writing something down. "Like they've moved on without you?"
"Yeah," Jason said, a bitter edge creeping into his voice. "I feel like I don't belong here, like they're living this dream, and I'm stuck in a nightmare. I don't deserve to be here. Eden is... I don't know, it's paradise, right? And I'm still dragging all this baggage with me. I'm... not like them."
Dr. Remis tapped her pen against her notebook thoughtfully. "Jason, it's not uncommon for survivors of trauma to feel disconnected, even when surrounded by people they care about. But it's important to remember that everyone has their own path to healing. Just because your friends appear to be adjusting doesn't mean they're not still working through their own pain, too. Have you spoken to them about how you feel?"
Jason laughed bitterly. "What am I supposed to say? 'Hey guys, while you're out having fun, I'm stuck reliving every horrible thing we went through?' They wouldn't get it. They don't want to be reminded of that stuff."
"You'd be surprised," Dr. Remis said gently. "Opening up to them might help you feel less alone. It's possible they feel similar things but are hiding it behind their smiles. Just like you are."
Jason stared at the floor. He hadn't considered that before. "I guess... maybe."
Dr. Remis gave him a small smile. "Eden is a place of new beginnings, Jason. It's a second chance for all of you, and it's okay if it takes time for you to feel at home here. Your feelings of unworthiness don't make you less deserving of happiness. Remember, you survived something horrible. That doesn't make you weak. It makes you strong."
Jason didn't feel strong. He felt lost.
"I'll try," he muttered. "But it's hard."
"It is hard," Dr. Remis agreed. "But you're not alone in this. You have your friends, and you have a community now that cares about you. And if it ever gets too overwhelming, remember that you can come here. We'll work through it together."
Jason nodded, though he wasn't sure how much he believed her words. As the session came to a close, he gathered his things, feeling no different from when he had walked in. The guilt, the feeling of not belonging—it still clung to him like a shadow. But maybe Dr. Remis was right. Maybe one day, he'd feel like he truly deserved to be in Eden.
"Thanks, Doc," he mumbled as he stood up to leave.
"Anytime, Jason," Dr. Remis said with a warm smile. "And don't hesitate to come back if you need to talk."
As he walked out of the office, back into the bright, clean streets of Eden, Jason wondered if he'd ever feel as happy as everyone else seemed to. The people around him laughed and smiled, some walking hand in hand, others lounging in the parks, completely at peace. The city buzzed with life, and yet, Jason felt like an outsider looking in. Would he ever be able to join them?
Only time would tell.