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+Chapter Eight+
Another Day, Another Sesson


I sat in my car for the longest time, staring at the office building. I was
back at Dr. Worley’s office, not because I wanted to, it was more like I was
forced to. Mom gave me an ultimatum saying I could go alone or she would
not only drive me there, she would escort me into the office to make sure I
went.

The look on AC’s face and the words he spoke pretty much helped me to
make my mind up. I guess I never really thought I needed help. I could tough
this out, but when Aaron made the comment that I was acting so distant and
cold hit me like a ton of bricks. I couldn’t put a wall up around my baby
brother.

A wall of protection.

Like Brian.

I squashed the cigarette out with my foot, almost as if I was displacing all
the madness that was going on with Brian and myself. I was half hoping that
when I reached the office door that it would be locked and I could turn and
leave. No such luck. The doctor was standing at the receptionist desk and
saw me when I walked in.

“Hi Nick, I was just about to give up hope seeing you this morning, you’re
fifteen minutes late.”

God, was he a hall monitor or something? I knew I was fifteen minutes late
but it was a deliberate fifteen minutes, almost like a private protest on my
part.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I mumbled a lame apology and followed the doctor
back into his office.

“Okay, so when we left off you were starting to tell me about how you
noticed changes in Brian’s behavior in forgetting things, can you pick up from
there?”

I smacked a fresh pack of cigarettes against my palm, packing the tobacco
down into the filters. I tore the pack open and pulled out a cigarette and
quickly lit it.

“I really don’t know how to describe everything,” I apologized.

“You don’t have to paint a graphic picture, just the details,” Dr. Blake
pressed.

I swallowed nervously. “I ah, I don’t really know how to begin.”

“Nick, I was going to wait until we were further down into your sessions, but
I think we’re going to need a little help.”

“Help?” I asked as my eyes scanned the room looking for something out of
the ordinary.

“I’m going to use hypnosis, it seems the only way to bring this out,” Dr.
Worley stated in a calm voice.

“Hypnosis? You mean like that stuff where they make people think they’re
someone else?”

A slight smile formed on Dr. Worley’s lips. “No, no not party hypnosis,
medical hypnosis. But if you’re wondering, yes I would have the capabilities
to make you think you’re President Bush.”

“I dunno,” I replied as I fiddled with the bic lighter in my hand.

“Nick, it’s the only way I can help you through this, you want to get better
don’t you? You want to stop blaming yourself.”

I nodded slightly. I did want to get better.

“Okay, let’s do this.”