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LOST : CHAPTER ONE

I DON'T WANT A THERAPIST

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The sun peered through the gap in the window, which was partly closed by the blinds. The early dew drops still lingered on the bright green leaves waiting to be snapped out of existence by the harsh late sunlight. The only sound that seemed to be present came from the birds happily chirping through the morning. The sweet silence remained for what seemed like a lifetime. But it was soon tore apart by a screaming.

Alexandria Perez woke up in cold sweat. Her heart was thumping faster and she gasped for breath. She reached out to hold her neck in an attempt to check for any bruises. Her eyes were blurry and hands were clammy as she caressed her neck, mumbling profanities inaudibly. She tried to gather herself when she realized that it was, all but a dream. Her life was not in danger. There was no one in front of her trying to strangle her to death. She glanced over to her bedside table and grabbed her phone. It read 6:16 AM.

Alexandria was never one to wake up early. But it changed a few years back. Since then, it was a blessing if she'd ever got a continuous 5 hour sleep.

She still had her hand around her neck as she tried to calm down. Her breathing was still erratic, and sweat droplets glistened at the expense of the morning sunlight from the blinds that invaded the otherwise dark room.

This was nothing new, but she couldn't get used to it. It felt all so real to her. She'd been having the same dreams for as long as she could remember.

To be honest, those weren't really dreams. Dreams are welcoming. They don't hurt you. You stay awake because of the excitement that runs in your veins. What Alexandria had were not dreams, they were nightmares. The ones that won't let you sleep out of sheer fright. Ones embedded deep onto your memory, something you just can't escape from.

She slowly got up from her bed, and made her way towards her bathroom, stumbling upon the day old clothes left untended on the floor. Once inside, she stripped herself naked and looked at her face in the already fogged up mirror. Her hands soon found her neck and she ran them through the old bruises. Those were supposed to be there. Sometimes it still hurt when she touched them, but today was not that day. She didn't feel any pain. Instead, she felt numb.

She quickly averted her gaze from her bruises and looked at her hand. Her body was still covered in sweat after her sudden wake from the nightmare. That too, her hands in particular. She grazed the inward of her forearm where a tattoo decorated her skin. It was delicate. The meaningful remain of her past life － now brought tears to her eyes every time she looked at it. She frantically rubbed it over and over, as if she could erase it with mere water. She chucked dryly when she realized that the tattoo, in fact, couldn't be wiped off with water.

Alexandria positioned herself under the shower head and turned it up to its highest possible setting and stood under it, unfazed by the boiling water hitting her skin. Any step to overcome the numbness only seemed to welcome more of it. The bruised girl － immobile on her bathroom floor － started losing her to herself.

David Kingsley stretched out his arms as he got up from his chair. It wasn't unusual for him to work late. That was how he ended up working through the night and into the broad daylight. He had gotten used to it by now. He cleared out his desk by throwing the used stacks of paper in the trash bin next to it.

He muttered to himself as he had left the coffee cup on it, which had now left a dark stain on the mahogany surface. That would be a struggle to get off.

David liked these early mornings － when he doesn't have to hear another human. And that day was not an exception. He enjoyed the quiet. A bit too much to his liking sometimes.

The faint ticking of the clock was the only sound that could be heard. He didn't bother to check the time, as he knew that it couldn't be that late. Alex was still sleeping, which meant that it couldn't be over six. But then, that would have been one of those rare days where she didn't wake up from a nightmare. But he knew how those were － rare, truly.

He decided to make himself a cup of coffee. As he walked over to the kitchen, he found Biscuit sleeping soundly on the couch. Yet again on the couch, and not in Alex's room. David wondered why she didn't like to stay much in Alex's room these days. But then, it doesn't take a detective to know the reason. Not wanting to wake the sleeping golden retriever, he silently made his way to the kitchen.

David measured the coffee powder for him. Just when he was about to close the lid, he was interrupted by a scream.

Alex.

David felt sorry for the girl. There was nothing he could do to make her feel better. If there was, he would've already done it. He felt powerless in that situation. Something he was not familiar with. Where ever David Kingsley went, David Kingsley had the upper hand. But, now he seemed to be under the ground － unable to do the one thing he really wanted to do. Help her.

The least he could do was make her coffee. He reopened the jar and measured the powder for Alex. After pouring enough water for the both of them, he switched on the coffee machine and waited, leaning slightly on the counter.

With the machine faintly purring in the background, David searched for mugs to pour the coffee into. He opened the cupboard to find a new porcelain mug. New, due to the fact that it hadn't been used much before. It bore a picture of Alex and a man, with the both of them smiling widely for the photo. David knew that Alex was never a fan of photo printed mugs, but she made an exception for this one. He ran his fingers over it, carefully avoiding the man's face, then sighed as he placed it back in the cupboard － he didn't want to give themselves another reason to be sad about.

David's thoughts ran in all directions but he forced himself not to think. He forced himself not to feel. Because he knew that Alex had lost so much. And she can't lose him too.

Blissfully unaware of Alex's thoughts, he closed the cupboard after him and hummed a low song. Then, he heard it. He heard the shower turn on. Something that doesn't often happen in their household. He knew Alex's routine by heart. He knew that showering wouldn't be the first thing on her mind. She would usually lay on her bed and contemplate waking up. So, call it instinct or a gut feeling, he felt that something bad was about to happen.

He treaded lightly as he walked over to Alex's room. After knocking on her door four times, only to be met with silence, he tried calling out her name － but was again left without an answer. He twisted the doorknob gently. And it opened, just like he had thought. On stepping inside, David was soon hit with a flow of hot air.

"Alex!" He called out to her a couple more times, but to no avail.

David reluctantly averted his gaze to Alex's bathroom. He didn't want to do this. But he physically forced himself to turn towards where she might be.

The glass walls of the cubicle were all fogged up, and he could faintly see Alex's body in the opaque glass － she didn't move, she just stood there motionless. As soon as he saw that image, he knew that something was definitely wrong.

"Alex! I'm coming in!" He opened the door to find her standing naked under the shower head, hot water pouring over her. He quickly grabbed her hand and pulled her out of it. Using a towel to wrap around her hot body, he took her in a soft embrace.

David couldn't stand there for another minute － he felt his skin burn. He glanced under to find Alex unbothered by everything that had happened. She was immobile － like she was in some kind of trance.

"Alex, What the hell are you doing?" David whispered, more to himself. But even he couldn't seem to make out his words.

Alex was seated on the comfortable armchair with her legs spread over the dining table in front of her. David sat opposite her as he made his way through his third coffee that day, occasionally glancing over to where she was － to check up on her.

"Drink." David instructed Alex, motioning to the cup of lemonade in front of her. For someone who almost suffered first degree burns, coffee can't do much help, David figured.

Alex brought her hand towards the cup, gently wrapped her fingers around and lifted it. Her hand was shaking slightly due to the sudden change in atmosphere from super hot to relatively cold.

"Alex, I am just..." David started speaking, but was soon interrupted by Alex's voice, "Save the speech, David."

David scoffed. Alex looked up to see him glaring at her. She shook her head － meaning she didn't care about anything that he had to say.

She started to sip her lemonade, and winced slightly as the cold liquid hit her throat.

David had his laptop in front of him. He was working on his new project, Alex assumed. But she was in no mood to talk that day. She silently sipped on her mug, deeply engrossed in her own empty thoughts.

And was brought out of it when David spoke again. "Alex, you need to listen."

Alex looked over to the brown-haired man. His eyes were sunken due to the fact that he was not getting enough sleep. His mouth was in a deep frown, stating his disapproval in her way of living. He looked disappointed. More than disappointed, he looked sad.

David was the kind of man who wouldn't think twice about another person. He was someone who didn't like to intrude in others' problems. But here he was, begging Alex to let him help her. He sighed as he met Alex's eyes － what was once bright green and full of life, now lacked everything.

"I'm not gonna beat around the bush, Alex," David paused. He removed the thin rimmed glasses he was wearing and set it on the table. He rubbed the bridge of his nose using his thumb and index finger, in a way to let her know that he was thinking deeply.

He continued, "I've thought about this and now I want you to listen to me, okay?"

David would never force his opinions on her. He would never make her do something against her wish. But the events of that morning begged for an action from his side. He decided for her. He decided that she could not live like that anymore. If she did continue to do so, maybe she wouldn't live to see another day, and he could not fathom the thought.

Alex knew what he was about to say. Some kind of intervention. But she didn't want any. Alex was living in denial. And an intervention would spoil that.

"I know. And I know what you're getting at. But I don't want to do this, David," Alex spoke in all calmness － something that was not in her life anymore. Her eyes begged him to let go of this.

But David had had enough. He was not going to stay back and watch her destroy herself.

"If you'll only listen to me..." David was interrupted again before he could finish his sentence.

"I don't want a therapist, David!" Alex snapped as she set her glass down with a thud. For someone who had been timid for so long, she was surprisingly fierce.

David was startled by this response. But he regained his composure soon enough and looked at Alex like one would look at a five-year old child.

"I know, Alex, I know," he sighed. "But, you need one." The last line was merely a whisper, but both of them heard it, owing to the tranquility of the early morning. They both sat there, not uttering another word, as they listened to the much envied morning silence.