"Do you dwell on that memory often?"
Dr. Peterson thumbed his pen against his notepad thoughtfully.
Micah broke away his gaze away from the ceiling fan and sat up, rubbing his temples.
"I try not to. Hard to say honestly. I started to, but usually It skips forward to a few days after the funerals."
Dr. Peterson bit the end of his pen.
"Does it bother you that they never found her?"
Micah leaned back and shoved his hands in his pockets.
"It used to, but I was a kid. We all were."
Peterson nodded, "That is true, but your sister's best friend being taken is just as traumatic as Ginny's passing. I'm sure you've wondered."
"I have.. but I've learned that i need to try to have a normal life. So I've shut everything out. Let it go."
The doctor sighed, "if that's true, why this abrupt visit?"
Micah stiffened, staring at his shoes.
"I've had the dream again."
Peterson raised a brow. "The blurry face."
"You're not supposed to be here."
The doctor nodded. "You're still not understanding why you can't see his face then."
"I know.. I know.. trauma causes blocks. I remember, just bothers me."
Peterson looked at the clock making note that the session had ran over.
"Go home Micah, get some exercise. Call your mother and check in. It'll come or go with time."
Micah sighed and stood, walking to the door. As he exited he glanced back to the doctor. "Hey, I read something the other day about abuse victims inheriting traits of their abuser as a coping mechanism.. is that true?"
Peterson sat his pad down and joined Micah at the door, prepping to call in his next patient.
"In some cases yes it's very true, especially in child abuse cases."
Micah nodded, "i thought so."
_
It took an hour on the city bus to get back to Micah's flat. The rain beating on the windows of the bus made it seem even longer. He plugged his way up the 4 flights of stairs and fumbled with his keys for awhile in the hall, going over the blurry face in his mind.
As he entered, Micah stripped out of his wet coat and put his keys on the rack. Walking to the refrigerator and pulling out the half-empty bottle of Beam's 8-star.
Taking a swig as he walked to the living room, turned on the TV, and sat down to settle in.
As he did, he was startled by a scratching to his right. Micah jumped back to his feet and faced the coat closet, filled with fear. "Who's there?!"
Silence..
And then more Scratching.
Micah slowly crept to the closet door. Gripping the handle and bracing, he swung the door open.
As Tindo, Micah's cat emerged and began to pet his leg he relaxed.
"You're not supposed to be here."
Micah moved the coats and revealed the 11 year old girl, still bound and gagged, sobbing and wailing in muffles in her socked mouth and belted binds.
"Sorry about that Lilly, I don't know how Tindo got in here."