On the Edge of Control

“What have you been thinking about lately, Christopher?” my grandmother asks.

I look up at the sound of her voice and see her walking into the dining room, where I’m sitting with a history assignment spread out in front of me.

“What are you talking about, Annie?”

“About going back to see Dr. Carter,” she says gently.

Just hearing the name of the psychologist I used to see makes my stomach sink, anxiety creeping up my chest like something dark and familiar.

“Well, it’s just… I don’t really have anything to worry about right now. What happened last time hasn’t come back…” I lie, unable to fully hide the tremor in my voice.

I can’t admit that the nightmares haven’t stopped since the last attack.

So I stay quiet.

She doesn’t look convinced. She never is.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. You’ve seemed really on edge lately, and I’m worried it might get worse,” she says, her concern tightening around my chest.

I hate myself for worrying her… and for lying.

“It’s just school, Annie. We’ve had a lot of projects lately, and I’m just overwhelmed,” I try to sound casual, but the crease in her brow tells me she doesn’t believe me.

“I know it’s not that, honey. You’re good at school—you always have been. We both know that’s not the problem. And I know you well enough to tell when you’re lying,” she says, crossing her arms as she studies me.

I want to disappear.

Shame burns through me—not because I got caught… but because I lied to the one person who’s always been there for me.

“It’s nothing important,” I insist, but my quiet voice betrays me.

Her gaze sharpens, and her silence only makes me more nervous.

“Josh told me something you said… something that scared you. Is that true?”

I freeze, a knot tightening in my stomach.

That idiot…

I swear I’m going to kill him.

“What are you hiding now, Chris? I want the truth.”

I shake my head, not knowing what to say. I feel betrayed by Josh… and terrified of Annie’s reaction.

“Chris, you’ve always been honest with me about these things. We had a deal, remember? Why are you hiding this from me now?” she asks, sadness filling her eyes.

I finally meet her gaze.

“They’re back,” I admit. “The nightmares… about Nathan. The party.”

Annie shifts uncomfortably, and her reaction fills me with guilt.

“I don’t want you hiding something like this from me again,” she says, taking my hand. “This is exactly what I was afraid of.”

I try to stay steady, but the knot in my throat tightens.

“You can’t say it’s not important when we both know how much it still affects you. You need to move forward—but you can’t do it alone. I understand what you’re feeling; we’ve both been through it. We can ease the pain if we keep moving… if we focus on the present. We just have to keep trying, Chris. It’s not healthy to hold on to this. You’re not alone, sweetheart.”

I drop my gaze. Her words strip away what little courage I had left to face her.

She’s right.

She’s always right.

“What happened with Nathan will always be tragic,” she continues, gently brushing my cheek, “but you need to understand that you’re only hurting yourself by holding on to something that can’t be changed. And shutting yourself away from us… won’t make it any easier to carry.”

I try to process every word. They land like blocks of ice in my stomach, sinking deep and making the weight of guilt even heavier.

She’s desperate. She suffered too… during that time when I almost became something I wouldn’t be able to forgive.

I ruin everything.

It’s always my fault.

All because I can’t stop being this closed-off idiot who’d rather drown in his own misery, hurting everyone around him with this cold… almost inhuman facade.

“Please, Annie… I’m the one who doesn’t want to see you like this. Just trust me, okay?”

I need to keep doing this. I need to stop things from spiraling out of control again… even if it means losing myself a little in the process.

“What I told Josh was just to explain what you mentioned about that attack I had. I swear, I’m doing better. I can’t keep seeing Dr. Carter… I’m tired of going over the same things again and again.”

I close my eyes, trying to breathe, trying to hold the memories back before they drag me under again… but the pain always finds a way in.

“I can’t even stand talking about it… and if I go back to a therapist, they’ll make me. They’ll make me remember everything… and all it’ll do is push me right back into that hole I barely managed to crawl out of. Please… try to understand. Just this once. Please.”

I sound weak. Pathetic, even.

But I don’t care.

I cling to the hope that she’ll understand… that I can ease the worry in her eyes. The woman who’s been there for me since I was seven… the one I’d take a thousand bullets for without hesitation.

I need her to let this go.

A therapist isn’t the solution.

I am.

I always have been.

And that’s the worst part.

I’ve been trying for years… and I always end up back where I started. Like I’m stuck in a loop I can’t break. Lately, something’s been creeping back in—out of nowhere.

Anger.

Fear.

And I don’t understand why.

What’s wrong with me?

That restless feeling follows me everywhere.

Whenever I leave the house, I can’t stop thinking about an attack… any kind of attack. It’s like my mind is wired to expect the worst. Maybe I can control it… but I never feel completely safe.

I’m afraid of myself.

Of what I might do.

Two years ago, I almost killed someone because I lost control.

Yeah, there were reasons, David… but none of them were enough to justify it.

I don’t know what took over me back then… I just know I felt it.

That urge.

That need to hurt someone.

That’s why I stopped trusting people. Because I don’t trust myself anymore.