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CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Last Updated:
2024-10-29 19:42:56BURIED DEEP
May 20, 2021
Zack
I forced all the air out of my lungs and exhaled as forcefully as I possibly could. Any attempt to get me up only results in me dropping to my knees on the ground, where I end up wailing and sobbing all by myself. Just as I was about to close my eyes, I noticed my grandmother gently fading from my vision as she drifted away with the wave, but instead of floating, the water ate her body, sinking her.
I just found myself again and stopped crying when the sunset and the light in the sky faded. I mustered the will to get back on my feet and walk briskly toward the door. My foot is still blazing in pain, as if someone had slammed a mallet into the interior, generating a searing sensation inside of my foot.
With he
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THIS WILL BE THE LASTEPILOGUEONE YEAR LATERZACK"Congratulations, Zack. I’m so glad to say that this is the end of our sessions." Dr. Peterson, my psychologist, said to me as we both stood up and embraced.I couldn't believe that after a year of therapy, I was finally done. I was diagnosed with PTSD, and it took us a long time to cure the nightmares that I had been having since the night Santi was captured. I admit that lingered with me for a long time, and it's still difficult for me to this day, but it lessens; most of the time, I'm paranoid, thinking they're simply around me when they're not."I'm going to miss sitting here," I chuckled, and he agreed and laughed too.
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"Now, let’s continue." The man in a police uniform started as he took out the photos inside the brown envelope and scattered them in front of me. My eyes fluttered as a sign of dreary. I want to ask for a glass of water, but I know nothing would be enough to drain the chaotic emotions in me. Instead of looking at the gruesome photos of the people I grew up with, I turned my head around in the small plain room. It’s so cold here, and I’m tired of answering the same questions over again. Nothing seems to be enough with the detective sitting in front of me. The old man is eager to prompt me to say the answers he wants to hear from me instead of the truth. “Mr. Hernandez, for the hundredth time, can you please answer our quest
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THIS WILL BE THE LAST CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
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THIS WILL BE THE LAST CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
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THIS WILL BE THE LAST CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
BURIED DEEPMay 20, 2021ZackI forced all the air out of my lungs and exhaled as forcefully as I possibly could. Any attempt to get me up only results in me dropping to my knees on the ground, where I end up wailing and sobbing all by myself. Just as I was about to close my eyes, I noticed my grandmother gently fading from my vision as she drifted away with the wave, but instead of floating, the water ate her body, sinking her.I just found myself again and stopped crying when the sunset and the light in the sky faded. I mustered the will to get back on my feet and walk briskly toward the door. My foot is still blazing in pain, as if someone had slammed a mallet into the interior, generating a searing sensation inside of my foot.With he
THIS WILL BE THE LAST CHAPTER FIFTY
DRIFTED BY THE DARKNESS VAST "Your son has dissociative amnesia, a condition in which your child blocks his memory because of acute trauma or stress; it can also be hereditary." The doctor in front of them said. "Based on his testing, his condition is still not so severe, but it could become so if he continues to forget memories." Olive grasped the strap of her sling bag as she returned her gaze to Zack, who was sitting by the window, refusing to play with the toys scattered on the floor mat. Olive's eyes filled with concern, which her husband immediately noticed; Sam reached for her other hand, which was sitting on her lap, and gently squeezed it, which drew her attention. "Does it have a cure?" Olive asked Mr. Peralta; a child psychologist offered them a tight, warm smile and nodded, causing her to sigh with relief.
