The room was warm. Too warm.
Dr. Kariuki always insisted on comfort—soothing colors, cushioned chairs, soft background music playing classical piano. But today, everything felt like a trap. The cushions swallowed her whole, and the air smelled like something artificial—lavender or lies.
Again with the lavender.
Annah sat with her arms folded, staring at the tiny jade statue on the doctor's desk. A monk, carved in perfect stillness. She hated how peaceful it looked.
"I'm glad you came back," Dr. Kariuki said, scribbling something into his notes. "How long has it been since your last session?"
Annah didn't answer.
"You've been under pressure," he continued, his voice gentle but probing. "You were questioned by the police. That must have stirred up... quite a bit."
Still nothing.
He placed the pen down, leaning forward. "Annah, talk to me. Why did you come today?"
She stared at the monk. "I'm seeing her."
Silence.
He didn't flinch. Just nodded, the way therapists do when they're taught not to react. "Lucy?"
A slow nod.
"Tell me more."
Annah's lips pressed into a line. Her voice, when it came, was low. "She's quiet. Doesn't say anything. Just watches. I saw her in the bathtub last night. Hair dripping. Clothes torn. But her eyes… they weren't scared."
Dr. Kariuki folded his hands. "What were they?"
"Empty."
A beat. Then, "Do you think she blames you?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
I was sure she does.
She closed her eyes, breathing through her nose. The room felt like it was spinning gently, as if the floor tilted just a few degrees.
"She was always the stronger one," she whispered. "I used to think I was protecting her. But maybe it was the other way around."
"Let's talk about Mr. Mbithi."
Annah's shoulders stiffened.
"You didn't mention him in any of our previous sessions, though the two of you interacted often at the hospital."
"He was just a hospital staff I liked having tea with during my night shifts."
"You watched him die."
She looked at him, sharply.
"You didn't tell me that, Annah. I read it in the report. They said he didn't struggle. Just… faded."
"He wasn't struggling when Lucy screamed either," she snapped.
Dr. Kariuki nodded, slowly. "Do you think he deserved to die?"
"I think he deserved to feel something before the end."
A pause.
"And what about you?" he asked. "Do you feel anything?"
Her throat tightened. She swallowed hard. "I'm tired, Doctor."
"Of what?"
"Everything. Holding it in. Pretending I'm fine. I wake up and for a moment, I forget she's gone. Then I remember—and it crushes me all over again."
He reached for a folder beside him, opened to her earlier entries. "Do you remember what you told me six months ago?"
"No."
"You said, 'Sometimes I dream I'm walking through the hospital halls, and there's blood on the walls but no one sees it but me.'"
She blinked. That dream. It had returned last week. But this time, the walls were whispering.
"Has it changed?" he asked.
She nodded. "Now the blood's on my hands. And everyone sees."
"Guilt," he murmured.
"No," she said. "Clarity."
Dr. Kariuki's brows lifted. "That sounds like justification."
Annah laughed—bitter, quiet. "Isn't that what therapy's for? Making monsters feel human again?"
He leaned forward, his voice soft. "You are human, Annah. But you're also grieving. And you're fractured."
Her eyes filled with something close to rage. "Then fix me."
"I can help. But only if you let me in."
Annah stared at the floor. "It's not safe in here. Not even for you."
He didn't respond right away. When he finally spoke, his voice was cautious. "Do you believe you're dangerous?"
"Yes," she whispered. "I believe I'm becoming something I don't recognize."
Dr. Kariuki took a breath. "Then we need to act now. I can start you on medication—just something to help regulate the hallucinations and anxiety."
"No."
"Annah—"
"No drugs. No numbing. I need to feel this. Every breath of it."
He closed the folder slowly. "Then I want to see you twice a week. No missed sessions. No pretending."
She nodded once.
As she rose to leave, she turned to him.
"Tell me something, Doctor."
"Yes?"
"Do you ever wonder what it would feel like… to finally stop being afraid?"
Dr. Kariuki's face remained calm, but something in his eyes flickered.
"All the time," he said.
She smiled as she left the room.