Chapter 170

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"Jayda," Dale says, shocked to see me when I come in. I'm supposed to be gone by now. He watches my anxiety-filled expression and asks, "Are you okay?"

"I can't do this," I say, swinging my hands in the air; the little white doggy bag that they put my medication in makes a loud crumply nose as the two prescriptions move side to side.

"Do what?"

"I can't... I can't go back out there, out to the-"

"Real-world," he finishes my sentences.

"Yes," I sigh. "I'm scared," Last night, I slowly packed my things, and this morning I continued moving at tortas speed while putting more of my things into a box.

He takes off his glasses then walks around his desk, "Well then, don't go," he shrugs like it's that easy.

"What?"

"Don't...go,"

"Uhm," I have no words; I wasn't expecting him to say that.

He grabs the office phone, "I can call the front desk right now and have them take your stuff back up; I'm sure your pa-"

"Stop," I cut him off. "What are you doing?"

"You said you wanted to stay, so I'm just..."

"No, no. This is all wrong. I'm supposed to come down here freaking out and panicking, and then you're supposed to say something deep,"

Dale laughs, knowing precisely what I am talking about, "I don't have anything DEEP to say,"

"For the first time in forever,"

Taking in a deep breath, he says, "Jayda, you will be fine, unlike last time, I am confident that this go-round will be different for you,"

"You don't know that? What if I go back and something even worse than before happens? What if I want to give up again?" There's no if, knowing me, it'll be two weeks before I find myself wanting to die again.

The medicine is good and all; it helps me to think clearly, and it helps my brain not to be as foggy; I haven't gone to a dark, dark place since I've been here, but I'm afraid it's because of that, it's because I'm here. I don't know what it'll be like when I leave. Well, I do, I know I will give up again, and that scares me.

"I have said for the longest that you can be saved. And you can, Jayda," he says with passion. "You can be saved, and as I said to you three months ago, you have to want it bad enough! You have to want whatever it is you want in life and just go for it, just live, with no regrets. When things get tough just remind yourself that everything will be okay even while it's not,"

His words are like doses of medicine, healing and strengthening me. It was just what I need, "See, I knew you had it in you," When does he ever not have a good motivational speech. I take a deep breath, "Okay, I think I can do this," I'm freaking out, but I'm teetering on the edge of confidence. "Thank you,"

"Thank You," he says back. I head for the door but then turn back when he calls my name, "I almost forgot," he opens the desk draw and then pulls out an envelope, "Open this when you..."

"When I?"

"When you know. You'll know when to open it,"

My lips press in a straight line. "Ugh, how vague," What the hell does that even mean? You'll know when to open it, "Will it be like a feeling or,"

"Jayda, you'll know when you know,"

"Whatever," My phone vibrates in my hand; it's my mother probably wondering where I am at.

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