[ WP ] A PTSD support group for those who survive horror movie scenarios .

`` The funny thing about Camp Iroquois was that it was n't the physical space- the cabins, the mess hall, the wooded path or the dock off Little Trout Lake- that made the place special. It was the culture. Your friends at camp were different from your friends at school. You got to know them faster because you were with them all the time, and soon it was like you were speaking your own language. Your old friends back at school would never get camp jokes, camp ghost stories, camp legends. You remember how it was: silly little girls, spinning each other around in the bathroom so they could chant `` Bloody Mary'' into the mirror with the lights out. Camp Iroquis was like a summer long chance to play make believe... so that's how I always used to think of Chainsawface...'' 
 
 Susan Dickers lowered her gaze as she spoke. For the first time she could not look the others in the eye, so she focused her attention to the circle of feet on the ground, and the Styrofoam cups of brownish liquid intermingled amongst the aluminum chairs. 
 
 ``..until 7/13, of course.'' She paused. She reached her left stump to her face to dab her glistening eyes. The nurse from the physical therapist's office had recently supplied her with a pair of velcro stump-casings on which she could attach Kleenex. It was the closest thing to a prosthesis that Susan Dickers would accept. 
 
 `` I remember so little of the actual HTE* * ( Hyper Terror Experience ) *, which I'm told is often the case, clinically. But I do remember... I mean I know I've talked alot about my counselors head before, and about learning not to blame myself, and I want to thank you all for those pamphlets you gave me on Hypokalemic periodic paralysis, those have been super helpful. 
 
 I mean, for years I've been asking myself, `` Why, Susan? Why could n't you have gotten out a few simple words, like `` Lookout!'' Or `` Behind You!'' or `` Chainsawface!''?'' But to have a scientific explanation for my silence is just... very calming.'' 
 
 Susan lowered her stump. The tissue, now dampened and deteriorated by her tears, had begun to fall away from her velcro stump and onto the floor. 
 
 `` You can take a break if you need to, Susie.'' Ms. Prescott always lead the group sessions with just the right combination of strength and gentleness. 
 
 `` No, no, I need to say this!'' Susan sniffled. `` For years, I've thought that I did n't deserve good things, that I did n't deserve to be made whole because of what happened to my camp counselor, Bunny! But the other day, because of you guys, I remembered something, and now I see that it's not my fault!'' 
 
 `` That's incredible, Susan! What was it that brought you to this place of strength?'' 
 
 `` I now remember, in that split second after I caught Bunny's head in my hands, she blew out her final death gurgle right in my face and it smelt like BEER!'' Susan exclaimed. Ms. Prescott gave a puzzled look. 
 
 `` Not only that, but in the instant before Chainsawface gave me his unholy chew, I saw Bunny's corpse double over on the floor, and I could see down her shirt- since no head was in the way- and she was n't wearing a BRA!'' 
 
 `` Susan, I'm not sure I'm following-'' 
 
 `` Bunny was a WHORE! I was too young at the time to put it all together, but now I see I've been beating myself up all these years and she was sneaking out and getting wasted and fucking around with counselor Ted!'' 
 
 `` Susan, I do n't think denigrating the victim is a healthy way to-'' 
 
 `` Ms. Prescott, everybody at Camp Iroquois knows that if you make out at night in Trout Lake Woods, Chainsawface will get you. Everybody knows that! Bunny was a drunk slut who broke the rules and paid the price. And I do n't have to punish myself anymore!'' 
 
 Ms. Prescott slumped back in her chair, unsure of what to say. `` Well, there's many roads to the same destination.'' She thought. Her mind was made up when she noticed that Susan Dickers' tears of pain had turned to tears of relief. Slowly, Susan raised her right velcro stump to her eyes, musing gently to herself, `` Classic Chainsawface...'' 
 

