Broken(2)

    “Nothing for me, thanks,” Reed said, and I saw a glass of water appear in his hand as he sipped it coolly. “I only eat Italian food lately.”

    “I’ll eat whatever I can get,” came a voice from next to him. I leaned forward and saw a shock of blond hair as Kat Forrest leaned forward so I could see her. Her green eyes glistened with an almost malicious light. “Older is better, though.”

    “That’s … awkward,” I replied. “Did I just say that out loud? I meant it, I think.”

    “Yeah, I end up saying stuff out loud that I shouldn’t, too,” came the voice from next to her. My eyes followed along the edge of the table, and another face came into focus, darker complexioned, with curly, dirty-blond locks. “Gets me into trouble sometimes.”

    “I can’t imagine how that could possibly happen,” Reed chimed in, sipping his water.

    “Me either,” Scott replied from his place next to Kat. His complexion looked washed out and he was perspiring so heavily I could see the water drip down his face. “I keep on doing it, though.”

    “Freud would say you’re simply manifesting thoughts of the sort you would like to see spoken aloud,” came the voice of the man seated between Scott and my mother. His dark skin was strangely muted in the bright light of the glass room around us, the painful sunlight blotting out much of the detail. “In doing so, you’re giving your subconscious a chance to express its desires.”

    “Huh,” Scott said, at rapt attention. “What do you think my subconscious is saying?”

    “That is an excellent question,” Dr. Zollers said, with a coffee mug in his hand, his eyes on mine as he answered. “If I were Freud, I’d tell you that it probably means that you want to kill your father and take your mother as your wife.”

    There was the screech of chair legs skidding against the floor as Scott stood up. “I don’t have to take this from you,” he said, his face twisted in outrage. A moment later his face went slack, any sign that he was upset disappearing as though it had never been there. “I guess I better get to work on that if I want to be married by fall, huh?”

    “Attaboy,” Reed said, taking another slow sip of water. “Keep living up to everyone’s expectations of you. That’s the way to do it.”

    “He never lived up to mine,” Kat said with a dismissing wave. “In any area.” She eyed Dr. Zollers. “But you … you look old … er.”

    Zollers hid his expression behind his coffee cup, but I caught the hint of an eyeroll.

    “Your friends are lovely, dear,” my mother said, focusing on the plate in front of her. She took a bite of pancakes heavy with maple syrup, and I could almost taste it over the chorus of meatloaf clashing with bitter, strong coffee that had no sweetness whatsoever. “I wish I’d had a chance to meet them all.”

    “You didn’t?” I mumbled, looking around. “Who’s missing?”

    “The big one,” she replied, the pancakes gone from in front of her. She had a sword laying before her now. “You know, Erich. Winter.” She paused. “The one who … well, you know. Him.”

    I frowned, and something prickled at the back of my mind. The bright light around us dimmed, then disappeared. I looked around the table in a rush; to my left, Reed had vanished and so had Kat and Scott. I blinked at mom, who still sat there. “Where did everybody go?”

    “On,” she said, fingering the grip of the katana that lay on the table between us. “They left without you.”

    “Oh,” I said. “Well, I don’t want to be alone—”

    “You always have been,” my mother’s voice came in a chilling reply as the room darkened further.

    “What do you think?” I cocked my head and looked to Dr. Zollers, who remained across from me, his coffee in his hand, coolly watching me.

    “I think it’s a dream, Sienna,” he said, and his features were not nearly as blurry as the others.

    “Other than that.”

    He pursed his lips and looked to the side, and there was a metric ton of regret waiting when he looked back at me. “I think you’re going to be awake very, very soon, and that when you do, you’ll find more than your share of troubles waiting for you, as usual. I think that you’ve passed the point of retreat, and that you’re going to have to deal with all of it now, every single thing you’ve been putting off. For that I’m sorry.” His mouth became a thin line, a grimace, and he looked down. “And even sorrier that you have to do it alone—but unfortunately, I can’t stay any longer—”