The Diary of Lincoln Loud

July 1 – Mom took me to see Dr. Franklin today. His office is in a big glass building downtown. From the lobby, you can see the whole city. Our house is just visible on the horizon.

The waiting room was filled with chairs and toys. Kids, some of them younger than me, played, read books, and colored. Why are they here? Can kids that young really be messed up like me?

I was nervous as I waited for my name to be called. I was afraid Dr. Franklin would think I was crazy and lock me up somewhere like Luan. When a nurse came out of a door and said, “Lincoln Loud,” my heart dropped.

Mom patted me on the back. “It’ll be okay, honey. I’ll be right here.”

I nodded.

The nurse led me down a hallway to an office. A big man with a gray beard and glasses was sitting in swivel chair. The office was dimly lit and comfortable. Pictures and plaques hung from the walls.

“Lincoln?” the man asked, half-standing. “I’m Dr. Ray Franklin. It’s nice to meet you.”

I took his hand and shook it.

“Have a seat.”

I sat in a leather armchair.

“So, Lincoln, your mom tells me you’re going through a lot right now. I know how you feel. When I was ten, my mother...killed herself.”

I blinked. “I-I’m sorry.”

He nodded. “Thank you. I don’t tell that to everyone who comes in here, but I told you because I want you to understand right out of the gate that I know what it’s like to lose someone, and that’s part of what’s bothering you, isn’t it? That you lost someone?”

I shrugged. “I guess.”

“Why don’t you tell me about it? Tell me everything.”

I sighed. I told him everything, from Luan as she was two months ago to Luan as she was when the police took her away last month. Dr. Franklin nodded and made notes on a pad.

“What your sister did to you...what bothers you the most about it? Obviously the whole thing was terrible in every way, but if you had to pick one thing that really gets to you, what would it be?”

I thought long and hard about that. “I guess...the change.”

Dr. Franklin nodded. “It bothers you that she...changed. You thought you knew her, you thought you loved her, but suddenly, she wasn’t your loving sister anymore.”

I nodded. “Yeah.” That was pretty much it, I guess. As close as I myself had gotten.

“People are strange, to quote an old song. You think you have a handle on them, and then realize you don’t. It’s even harder when those people are your family. The people who should love you and take care of you.”

“Yeah. It’s scary. I keep thinking ‘What if one of my other sisters is like Luan?’”

“That’s a scary thought. But if asked, do you think that any of them actually are?”

“No,” I said instantly. “They’re always there for me. They always look out for me. But so did Luan.”

“This is obviioisly a stressful time for both you and your family. Times like these, Lincoln, tend to separate the wheat from the chafe. That is, times like this show you what a person is made of. Your sisters sound like wonderful people, Lincoln. It sounds like they love you and they want the best for you. They want you to come to terms with what Luan is and what she did. They want to see you happy. That’s a heck of a support network. You’re lucky. There are some kids who come in here and don’t have anyone. You have a very large and loving family. Lean on them for support.”

When the appointment was over, I met mom in the waiting room. “How did it go?” she asked.

“Good,” I said.

I feel...better, I think, but I still miss Luan, and I still wish she wasn’t sick. Dr. Franklin was right, I have a support network, but there’s one vital part missing: Luan. Without her, none of us are complete.