Amber Silverblood Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

“You may stop, Miss Silver,” Dr. Mayve said, setting his pen down on his desk.
Amber stopped, her next sentence halfway out of her mouth. The doctor, dressed in a nonthreatening button up shirt and tie, placed his notes on his desk and folded his hands, smiling pleasantly.
“Well, I think this has been a very productive session,” he said. “What about you?”
“We didn’t actually talk about anything,” Amber answered. An itch appeared on her nose, and she instinctively reached up to scratch it. Her hand was halted, however, by the handcuff that had chained her to the chair’s armrest. There was another set on her other wrist.
“Perhaps,” Dr. Mayve admitted. “But the first step to overcoming any problem is to understand where the problem is coming from.”
“You don’t believe a word I’m saying, do you?”
Dr. Mayve sucked in his breath and looked away guiltily.
“These delusions you are having are quite troubling, Miss Silver,” he said. “I want to help you through them, and I think the first step in doing so is to listen to what you have to say.” He spread his hands out in front of himself, “After all, the answer to the problem can often be found within the problem itself.”
“You don’t believe me,” Amber said again, her voice an accusing monotone.
Dr. Mayve sighed. “Miss Silver, it is my job to guide you through this. It would be doing you far more harm than good to say that I believed you.”
Amber bit her tongue, stemming the flow of angry retorts that were about to spill out of her mouth.
“Now, there are a couple of things that I’ve already managed to discern from your story,” Mayve went on. “First of all, you obviously feel quite a bit of guilt for your father’s death. This is understandable, and it would not be so farfetched to believe that that is where all of your troubles began.”
“I’m pretty sure I already pointed that out,” Amber spat coldly.
“It would be completely natural for a young woman to experience some trauma after being attacked by a wild animal, especially just after seeing it tear her own father to pieces. Even over two years after the fact, I’m sure it wouldn’t be strange to have some lingering feelings about the event.” Mayve pointed his finger at her, “What concerns me is your story about Kimberly Newman.”
Amber leaned forward in her seat as far as she could with her restraints holding her in place.
“Don’t talk to me about her,” she said slowly. “Don’t make me relive it all over again.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Miss Silver,” Mayve said. “It is my job to help you, and some of the best help I can give you is to force you to confront your worst memories. Confront them and analyze them.” He pounded his fist on the desk excitedly, “Overcome them, Amber!”
Amber gripped the armrests of her chair hard enough to drive her nails into the plastic. For a moment, there was absolute silence. Then she spoke in a soft, yet deathly serious voice.
“I didn’t kill her.”
Though he tried to hide it, Amber didn’t miss the shiver her words sent down Mayve’s spine. He cleared his throat and thumbed through some of his notes.
“I am aware of that,” he said. “In fact, if I’m not mistaken, you did quite the opposite. Kimberly owes her life to you, doesn’t she?”
“For as much good as it did her,” Amber spat, looking pointedly at the floor. “I only made things worse.”
Mayve, sensing that she was on the verge of telling him something valuable, folded his hands and leaned forward intently. “Yes?” he encouraged her. “Go on.”
Amber looked back up at him, and he was struck by how much pain he saw in her eyes.
“I saved her once, but she’s dead now anyway.” She said simply.
Having said that, she sagged forward in the chair, like a flower that had gone too long without being watered. All the strength in her had been stolen away.
Dr. Mayve arched an eyebrow in confusion, “And what makes you say that?”
Amber didn’t answer. Mayve felt a gentle tug at his heart, and he stood up. Slowly walking around his desk, he placed his hand comfortingly on her shoulder and leaned down to speak directly into her ear.
“Amber, Kimberly is very much alive.”
Amber’s head shot up, looking directly at him. The change was so sudden that Mayve stumbled backwards a couple steps from fright. She slowly shook her head, a wild look in her eyes.
“Don’t say that,” she growled. “Don’t make fun of me like that!”
“It’s true,” the doctor insisted, making his way back to his chair, trying to keep a good distance between the two of them in doing so. “In fact, she’s right here with us.”
Amber froze.
“Here?” she echoed. “In this… place?”
Mayve nodded. “We found her a little over a month ago. She was in bad shape, but not at all dead.”
Amber’s breathing began to grow heavier. Could it be? No, of course it couldn’t. She’d seen it with her own eyes. There was no way Mayve could be telling her the truth.
“I want to see her!” she exclaimed suddenly. “Now!”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Mayve said.
“Why not?” Amber demanded. “If anyone has the right to see her, it’s me!”
“Because you were brought to Farongoth for a reason,” Mayve reminded her. “This is a hospital for the criminally insane. Putting you in the same room as a seven year old girl is completely out of the question.”
Amber was still for a few tense moments, and then nodded.
“Very good,” Mayve said, and pressed a button on his desk. With a loud buzz, the door to his office opened, and two burly security guards came into the room. “I am returning you to your room for the night. At this time tomorrow, you will be brought back here and you can continue your therapy.”
Once her shackles were unlatched, Amber stood up. Immediately, she swooned and one of the guards had to catch her.
“Are you all right?” Dr. Mayve asked, concerned, leaning forward over his desk.
“I’m Moon Starved,” she said in a weak voice.
Mayve shook his head, “I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean.”
Amber rolled her head to look at him. “I need to be in the moonlight. I need it to touch me. To feed me! I’m going to starve without it!”
Mayve grimaced and nodded, staring intently at his desk. “Yes, yes, we’ll have time to talk about that tomorrow. Gentlemen, please take her back to her room.”
As they marched her out of the doctor’s office, Amber managed to find some strength inside of her, and began to walk on her own. It was a necessity in the godforsaken place, she thought as she was marched down the hallway, past the glaring, malicious eyes of the other inmates as they peered through the glass walls of their cells. Somewhere in the distance, she heard somebody begin to laugh- a cold, cruel laugh that carried no humor. Shivers cascaded down her spine, but she didn’t allow her fear to show.
Because here in the Farongoth Prison for the Criminally Insane, the smallest display of weakness would make you a target.