He Turned Off the Lights

The trauma from my past had given me claustrophobia.

It was getting worse by the minute. I was curled up in the corner with my head buried in my arms when the lights snapped back on.

Herman stood in the doorway, grinning. "Hey, you didn't cry this time. That's progress."

I lifted my head. My voice wouldn't stop shaking.

"Herman, do you know that extreme fear can kill someone? I've been afraid of the dark and water since I was a child. I can't stand being alone in small spaces. You know all of this. The wolfsbane poisoning also left me weak. I have to take medication every single day.

"You know that better than anyone, don't you?"

Herman cast his phone to the TV and started a horror movie.

"Of course I know. But you can't be scared forever. Werewolves are supposed to be strong, both physically and mentally. You won't survive in a pack like this. Besides, I turned the lights back on for you, didn't I?"

He walked over, stroked my hair, and pulled me into his arms. "Joey, fear is only temporary. You need to push through it."

Clara leaned back on the sofa and filled her whiskey glass with ice. "Joey, we're training you so no one can push you around."

Then she reached into my bag, took out my pills, and dumped them all into the trash. "Once you're brave enough, you won't need these anymore."

She tossed the empty bottle aside. It rolled across the floor and stopped at my feet.

Herman kissed my forehead. When I didn't react, he frowned in annoyance.

"Are you going to get up? Do I have to pull you? Come watch the movie."

I never watched horror movies, especially late at night with the lights off.

I wanted to go back to my room, but the shock had turned my legs to jelly. I couldn't stand, let alone walk down the dark hallway alone.

So I had no choice but to stay in the living room.

My heart still ached on and off, a lingering side effect of the poisoning.

The bloody scenes on the TV were so terrifying that I couldn't even open my eyes.

Clara handed me a glass of whiskey packed with ice. "Joey, have a drink. You'll feel so much better."

She swirled the ice around. "Herman knows I love ice. He filled the freezer for me, but he worries I'll catch a cold in this weather, so he only lets me have one glass."

I had once told Herman that my therapist said I needed to limit cold food and drinks.

He didn't care. He said I'd get used to the cold if I had it more often.

I was thirsty. Even knowing how cold it was, I reached for the glass. But Herman pressed down on Clara's hand, stopping her.

"If you give it to her, what are you going to drink? We agreed. One glass a day."

Clara pouted and leaned against him. "Can't I have just one more today? Please?"

"No. You were sneezing yesterday. If you get sick in this cold, I'm the one who has to deal with it. Joey can take it or leave it. If she's thirsty, she can pour herself some water."

I pulled my hand back, my fingernails digging into my palm hard enough to sting.

Then Herman pulled a pile of snacks from the drawer, every single one of them Clara's favorites.

"Herman, you're the best!" Clara threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. Then she picked up a strawberry gummy and held it to his lips. "This is my favorite flavor. Try it!"

Herman never ate sweets. He drank his coffee black, no sugar, no cream. He couldn't even stand the cloying smell of candy.

Last Christmas, I'd been a little dizzy, so I bought a box of candy and finished it while sitting next to him.

He kept his distance the entire day, his expression cold, and refused to come near me until I brushed my teeth and changed my clothes.

Now, his eyes stayed on the TV, but he tilted his head so naturally, opened his mouth, and took the candy. His lips brushed against Clara's fingers as he chewed. "Mm, this flavor really is something special."

Watching that scene sent another wave of dizziness crashing over me, just when I'd barely steadied myself.

So it wasn't sweets he couldn't stand. It was me.