35. Brave

I groan as we turn up at the psych ward.

"You've got this." Aron squeezes my arm.

"Don't say that until you've gone to your therapy."

"You're right." He leans in and kisses my cheek.

"Good luck." He says.

"Yeah, you too." I get out of the car.

As I walk into the waiting room after checking in I'm happy to see no one's there. No freaks for a change.

I sit down on a chair and a second later Harold walks in with with Heather following shortly after.

I look up at the ceiling.

"Kill me now."

"Suicidal, I see?" Harold grins as he walks further into the room.

"That makes a bit more sense, I could see why someone like you might not want to continue on."

"Someone like me?" Why am I talking to him?

"You're BASIC." His hand rests on his hip and he's literally looking down on me as he says this.

"And you're a sadistic psychopath." I spit back.

He gasps exasperatedly and holds his hand to his chest.

"How dare you!" He exclaims theatrically. "Sadistic, maybe, but a psychopath?"

I roll my eyes.

"Yes, go ahead. Roll your eyes! That seems to be all your good for."

"Said the nuisance!" I scream at him. "And on top of that you're a fucking jerk, in case you didn't know!"

"I'M a jerk?! Oh, don't get me started on you, mister—"

"Harold?" A man sticks his head in he door. I assume he's Harold's therapist.

He gets up and walks over to the man. He gives me a snide look and disappears.

I sigh of relief.

The only one left now is Goth Girl.

She looks at me with big eyes.

"What?" I say after a while, a little more harshly than intended.

She flinches.

I sigh. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna punch you." I say annoyed.

She peers over at me for a while.

She doesn't say anything.

Whatever.

I look away and drown in my own thoughts again.

"I like your hair." She says quietly, suddenly.

I turn to her.

Her eyes are big, cautious.

"Thanks." I smirk.

She smiles back at me. It might just be the softest, shyest smile I've ever seen. Even more so than Chase's.

My heart fills with warmth.

Before I know it, I find myself asking: "So what brings you here?"

"Social anxiety disorder and c-PTSD." She says softly like it's nothing.

"You?" She asks.

"I don't fucking know, honestly."

She flinches at the swearing.

"Sorry." I say. Maybe that triggered her.

"General Mess Disorder." I joke.

She laughs. It's the first time I see her look.. not scared. And her laugh is enchanting, light like a fairy or a toddler. Or both.

I wonder what happened to her. I feel anger at whoever did it to her. How could anyone want to hurt someone as sweet as her?

"Sky!" Jennifer calls excitedly like I'm a long lost friend.

I rise up and smile at her.

"Bye, Heather." I say to her.

She waves at me in the most gentle way.

***

"EMDR?" I ask.

"Yes. It stands for Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing therapy. It's a form of therapy where a licensed EMDR therapist asks you to remember certain difficult moments in your life. All the while you follow a light or a finger moving left to right. This is a method that has helped many people look at the past with more distance. Your memories will still be there but not so close. Not so bright. Not so.. disturbing. It'll make it easier to move on."

"Sounds like hypnosis to me. Creepy."

She smiles. "It's not like hypnosis. The combination of moving your eyes side to side while recollecting memories is hard for the brain. Our brains can't do those two things at 100 percent simultaneously. That is why the memories get a little less detailed, more distant and don't feel as heavy anymore. It's a scientific therapy proven to have helped many in a similar situation to you, Sky. And after what you told me today. About your father, your mother.. I believe this could really help you."

"Well.. are you an EMDR therapist?" I ask. I really don't wanna start with someone new.

"You're in luck. I am." She smiles.

I smile back.

"Now, why don't we start by looking into your life. What is the main idea that you have in your head that is holding you back? That is.. bothering you every day." She gets up and goes to a blackboard.

"Um.." That I'm a terrible person. That I ruin people.. That I ruin everything.

"I've heard you speak badly about yourself a lot.."

"Because it's true. I'm an awful person."

She nods and writes it down on the board with big quotation marks.

"And which events do you think have made you believe that?" She asks.

I sigh. Everything up until now.

I really don't wanna go over this. I put my head in my hand.

"It's okay, Sky. I know it's hard to talk about. But you can do this."

"Um.. like I said. My mom never gave me attention so.. I kind of went out on my own a lot." My mind goes back to Neil. His horrific face haunts my mind. I flinch. I haven't told her about Neil yet.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but could it be that your mother and father's absence has resulted to you believing you don't matter?" She probes gently.

I mean.. I never thought of it that way.. but she could be right. I nod.

She writes 'Mother' and 'Father' down on the board.

"And what else?"

I search my memory. Neil pops up again.

My chest hurts and I'm scared. I feel ashamed at the idea to even tell her about that. She'll hate me. She'll think I'm disgusting.

I pull my knee to my chest and wrap my arms around it.

"Sky?" She asks.

"I don't wanna talk about it." I mumble.

She sits down across from me.

"I understand that, I do. But I can't help you if I don't know what's going on. Now I've told you before, there's nothing I will ever judge you about. We all make mistakes, we all go through stuff—"

"Not like this. I really fucked up. And I can't let go of it. He just keeps haunting my mind. I can't get peace! I don't want this anymore. I just want it to stop!" I can't control the tears streaming down my face. I can't stop crying no matter how hard I try.

Jennifer holds out a box of tissues. "Sky, who is 'he'? Your father?" She sounds really concerned.

I shake my head.

"What did he do, Sky? Please tell me."

My heart is beating out of my chest and I'm filled with shame. I don't wanna talk about this!

I get up and walk to the door. Put my hand on the handle, ready to leave.

Then I think about Steven. I promised him.

Dammit!

I take a shaky breath and let go of the handle.

"My teacher came on to me when I was a kid." I say quietly.

I turn around but I don't look at her face. I'm afraid to.

"Oh Sky.." She says soothingly.

I'm surprised when she wraps her arms around me and holds me in her arms. I'm taken aback at first but then I relax. I feel safe and comforted. I reluctantly wrap my arms around her too and breathe in her scent. And I cry as she strokes my back and tells me it's okay to feel.

A little while later she writes 'Teacher' down on the board.

I wipe my tears. God, I'm turning into such a pussy from all this.

"Alright. We don't have much time left but I would like you to think about which events have specifically had such an impact on you that you began to believe 'I am an awful person'. It's okay if you bring multiple, then we'll look it over next week."

Homework. Great.

"Okay." I say softly. I feel so drained and sad. Like she just cut me open and now all the darkness comes out.

"Before we end this session I just want to commend you on how strong you are for telling me about yourself and about what happened to you. You're very brave. I hope you know that." She gives me a soft smile.

"Since when is talking brave?" I scoff.

"Since it was very hard for you. And you did it anyway." She looks me deep in the eyes. "You did well. You're allowed to feel proud of that."

Seeing it that way, it is brave. Though it's kind of awkward to think that about yourself.

"Thanks." I smirk while I blush like an idiot.