Michelle Whalen

Dr. O’s office

Boston, August 2028

“I could hear my mother and my father arguing at the other end of the apartment. That was pretty normal. But this time, I heard my mother run closer; towards our bedroom, which was right next to the front door in the kitchen. She unlocked the deadbolt, and I heard the storm door swing open. Then I heard my father’s footsteps run through the kitchen and out the door.”

“And where were you at this point?” Dr. O asked Vivienne as she moved her finger left to right and right to left repeatedly in front of Vivienne’s eyes while Vivienne tracked her every movement.

“I was on the top bunk, above my brother, who was just a toddler then. He was a heavy sleeper, and he never woke up during the fight. I was sitting up in my bed trying to listen when Erica came into our bedroom and stood at my bed to talk to me in the dark. I was still sitting high up in my bunk and was glad to see her there. She said everything was okay and told me she was going to stay with me while my mother talked to the police. I could see the lights from my bedroom window. Honestly, it was kind of exciting but confusing, too.”

Dr. O asked, “Is Erica a friend or…?”

“Yes, she’s cool. She’s the one who told me the ghost’s name the first time I saw him. She was one of my favorites in that family—her and Nadine. They were the best. Can you imagine? All ten kids, all grown up and most of them still lived up there together. I can’t even….nope.”

”Tell me about the fight…did you hear anything after your mother and father ran out of the house?”

Vivienne described how she had heard her mother screaming after running out the front door, and that she had heard her yelling for help all the way around to the side of the house next to Vivienne’s bedroom, then up the stairs that hugged the back of the house. She told Dr. O how her father had chased after her mother, and how she had heard his feet stomping so fast up the steps and through the mudroom above Vivienne’s and her brother’s bed.

“I felt sick all of a sudden.”

Vivienne explained to Dr. O that she had heard the whole family upstairs screaming “Get off her!”, and that there had been banging noises, and then silence. Then a few agonizing seconds had passed before she heard feet stomping back down the stairs again—it was her father running away before the police got there.

“What happened after he left?” Dr. O asked.

“That was when Erica came down to our bedroom,” Vivienne told her.

“How long did she stay?” Dr. O asked.

“Not too long,” replied Vivienne. “It all started after my bedtime, and I remember looking at the clock when Erica left, and it was after midnight. I do remember that.”

“And what did you and your mother do after Erica left?”

After the cops and Erica left, my mother asked me to lie on the couch with her, which I did, of course. I was scared. My mother knew DV wasn’t taken seriously—it was the eighties, you know? And they always released the men back out on the streets after telling them to go cool off somewhere. They didn’t want the extra paperwork over a simple marital fight. That’s how they saw it back then.”

“Did she tell you that he might come back?”

“No, but I knew”.

“How?” inquired Dr. O.

“She had me lay down on the couch in front of her, and she put her arms around me. I was her shield. She knew he wouldn’t lay a hand on me,” Vivienne said with a touch of pride in her voice.

”Did you know that?” Dr. O asked.

“No, I did not,” Vivienne said matter-of-factly.

Dr. O paused to recognize Vivienne’s trauma. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“It is what it is,” Vivienne quipped.

Silence filled the next ten seconds while Dr. O took notes on her computer and Vivienne picked at her fingernails.

“Okay, Vivienne, as we wrap up this session, I would like to give you a homework assignment to do before next week. It’s a writing exercise, and I’d like for you to give yourself some real time to think about it before you attack it. The program requires it. Oh! I almost forgot. I also have a brand-new research study I’d like you to participate in, if you’re willing.

“If I’m willing?”