Forgive me, I survived

The room is too quiet.The kind of quiet that hums in her ears and presses against her skin like something alive.The fan clicks overhead in a slow,lazy rhythm but it does nothing to stir the heavy air.Her blanket is tangled at her waist.Her shirt clings to her skin,damp with sweat.She doesn't remember falling asleep but she remembers the dream.Her throat is tight, her jaws aches from clenching.The taste of cooper sits on her tongue like a warning, and her fists are still curled against her chest as if they tried to protect her even here. Her eyes full of tears .Even now, the ceiling swims above her, familiar and unfamiliar all at once. It's her room,her bed,her apartment.She knows that but her body doesn't, her body is still trapped somewhere colder,smaller and older. Somewhere she doesn't want let herself think about unless it forces its way in like it just did. She doesn't want to remember that painful event but it keeps coming back,an unending nightmare.Her breath shudders out, she doesn't cry,she never cries not even when she wakes up like this, heart pounding against her ribs like it wants out.Not even when her skin feels too tight ,not even when her chest is an empty, echoing ache She tells herself " It's just a dream just another nightmare" as she breath in and out waiting for the shaking to stop.Eventually it does stop as it always does. The nightmare never stays longer than few minutes,but silence that follows, that stays. She sits up slowly, the room tilts a little then evens out.Light bleeds through the blinds, thin and grey.Late afternoon, she must have dozed off mid lecture, her laptop still open on the nightstand. Half a YouTube psychology video paused in the middle of explaining childhood trauma with a voice that's too calm,too clean. She huffed as she dragged her finger across the trackpad, closes the tab, deletes the search history. She doesn't want evidence of what she was looking for.The last image from the dream still haunting her, the worn out carpet,the door that never locked, the sound of someone breathing on her too close,too wrong, She pressed her palms to her eyes,hard until color blooms behind them in harmless static. "it's over . it's been over for 12 years now" she said to herself . Even though it felt like it happened yesterday. She stood up and went to stand near the window as she allowed the air to blow her tears away. As her work alarm rang , she switched it off and took a long shower and prepared for her late shift at the private hospital .She liked her job as she saw different kinds of people and their stories but mostly helping them heal. She took a tax to work. Linda The cab halts in front of the tall gray building that looms skeleton against overcast sky.I stare at it through the window shield,my hands still clenched around my purse .The engine hums ,then stops, and the sudden silence feels louder than the storm in my chest. "Miss? we're here",the driver says gently, glancing at me through the mirror. I blink, force a nod and pay. My heels click too loud on the wet pavement as I step out .The doorman greets me with a stiff smile, I return one that's stiffer.The reception smells like artificial citrus and floor polish.Cold air conditioning brushes against my skin like unwelcome fingers.I wrap my arms around myself as I make my way to the elevator, pressing the fifth floor button with mechanical ease. My reflection in the polished doors meets me_expessionless, eyes heavy with something that won't name itself.I look like a woman who has it together,tidy bun , neutral lipstick, blazer pressed to perfection but under that is the shadow of last night's nightmare still breathing down my neck.I press my lips together and shift my weight. The elevator dings, opens. " Morning Linda!" someone calls from the open ward. I lift my head up and smile.Numbness makes it easy to pretend.I smile so automatically that I sometimes forget how my real one used to feel . If it existed.“ Morning Amy how are you doing " I answer as I walk past her ward. I walk past busy nurses and doctors some carrying patients documents some coffee mugs clink. I walked into my office and took a seat grateful for the distance and privacy it offers. My desk is spotless , organized,controlled I breath. My inbox is already a battlefield, full of emails. Five unread and one urgent,I opened the agent one it was a teenager patient who was abused sexually.My breathing stopped as I felt the panic attack trying to sneak in on me. The room doesn't spin but it tilts a little.I look away blinking and swallowing the building lump on my throat. “I am here to work and help patients I'm not that girl in the room ,not anymore. I'm strong now and I will help this patient " I told myself as I regained my breathing rhythm.A knock on my door caught me off guard “ Hey are you okay?" it's Andrew, my colleague sometimes friend.He seats down concern pitching his forehead.“You look like you just received bad news or something " I force a smile “its not that I just didn't sleep well" .He nods knowingly, the lifts a take away cup , “want coffee? you look like you need a rescue " .I hesitate a bit too long then nod “Black , no sugar?". “You remember" my voice comes out quieter than intended. “ Of course ", he says with a wink before standing up to leave. As I watch him go, a small weight lifts just an ounce.I turn back to my screen, I breathe in and out. I survived this evening but there are hours still to go and memories that don't wait for permission. I picked up my office phone and called the receptionist “ Hey Bella may I please have a file of a teenager who got admitted here yesterday in my office now thank you " I said ending the call , after a while she entered and gave it to me “ Thanks Bella" .“Anytime doctor " she said leaving.I looked through the file to just understand the case. Linda stood up and went to the ward her heart beating so hard,her hands sweaty as she walked through the passege.She stopped at the ward door contemplating whether to go in or just go back to her office.After some minutes she gathered herself and open the door. She was walking very elegantly hiding the pain in her. “Hello" she said as she got to her patient “ My name is Dr Khumalo, may I know your name?". She said trying to create a little conversation. “ I'm Rose" , “ Ok Rose I am your doctor from now on ,how are you feeling" she said smiling warmly . “ I'm not sure how I'm feeling doctor " said this teenager girl sitting up straight. Linda looked at her and only saw herself in her , the brokenness, feeling lost and unloved. “ Look it's ok you can talk to me , I heard you are refusing to tell someone what happened? .. who did this to you?" .Rose looked at her with red eyes and full of pain “ My stepdad did this and he is very much well known if I spoke he would have killed me but now it doesn't matter he has done his worst" .Linda held her hand “ Look , he deserves to be punished for this don't let him destroy you, you're very much better without him "