Fix A Heart. (Demi Lovato fanfic)

Therapy.

(Charlie's POV)  

I sat down on a comfortable chair staring at a woman with blonde hair and blue eyes, she looked a lot like Sandra. Her name was Dr. Louise Taylor and she was going to help me with my healing process. "So, Charlie." She smiled "What are you here for?" 

"I have depression, I'm anorexic, and I self-harm." My voice cracked.

"Admittance is the first step, you're only a few minutes in and already getting farther than most people." Dr. Taylor wrote something down in a book then looked at me again "What do you want to talk about? Keep in mind, nothing, and I mean nothing leaves this room. At least not from my mouth, if you tell people that is your choice." 

"Isn't it your job to decide what we talk about? Then ask things like 'How are you feeling?' and 'How does that make you feel?' or something like that?" 

Dr. Taylor laughed than said "Usually therapist will do that, but I find it more effective to let the patient decide and let them open up." She informed me "So whenever you're ready, it can be now, later, next session, whenever, we just need progress."

I nodded. I sat there for a bit and decided to think about what I wanted to talk about. "I never had a childhood." I told her, she looked at me as if to tell me to go on. "I was stolen from my biological family as a baby, and Sandra, my kidnapper raised me as her own. She didn't really do a good job." I laughed. "The first time most teenagers have sex, it's with their boyfriend or their girlfriend, and they are so in love with them in that moment that nothing else matters. The first time I had sex I was eight years old and I was kicking and screaming as my said to be mother's dentist raped me.

"Sandra started beating me when I was nine, because she said I wasn't giving a good performance. Whenever a man raped me she would beat me according to review; good review little to no beating, bad review I could end up unconscious. I know it's stupid but in my mind I kept count of every single time it happened and every single man that it happened with. Over six years I have been raped 6,656 times, once a week by 32 men, 4 or 5 men a night." I saw Dr. Taylor gasp for a second but then go back to a stoic professional position.

"I have been pregnant, the first time was when I was 12, because sometimes the men are careless. I have been pregnant a total of 6 times, and each time I have been forced into an abortion, not that I'd want to bring a child into the world and life I lived. The first two times Sandra performed the abortions herself, I was not given any sedatives and it hurt so badly. She began going to professionals after she realized that she was causing me to 'leave work' for about a week." I haven't even told Demi that, I don't know why I just feel like the more I open up the faster this'll be over with. 

"What are your feelings, and thoughts about your mother having done these things?" Dr. Taylor asked.

"Well, first of all, Demi is my mom, Sandra is my kidnapper. And I guess I felt... Angry? Confused? Both? I didn't understand how someone, who was supposed to love, nurture, care, and help you, could beat, neglect, solicit, and molest you. I was furious because I was being forced to sleep with men, do things children and teens should not be doing to older men because their mothers would beat them to death, no exaggeration, if they didn't." I felt Dr. Taylor's eyes on me but I stared at the clock above her head.  I could hear her pen drag along her notepad and her foot tap on the floor. 

"Is there anything else you want to add? Or anything else you want to talk about?" 

I thought about this for a few moments then asked "How much time do we have left?"

"Twenty-five minutes have passed, so five minutes." 

"Then, let's save the rest for our next session." I told her, she just smiled and told me how well I did for a first session and that I can leave early. I walked out to the lobby and saw Demi sitting there with her headphones in and reading The Fault In Our Stars. I tapped her shoulder and she looked up "Ready to go?" 

Demi nodded and put her book and headphones in her purse, "How was it?"

"We got into some pretty serious shit, and I would like to leave it alone." I told her.

"Will you keep going?" She asked "Do you think it's working?" 

"I guess, I just don't like envisioning it all again ya know?" I told her as we walked out the door. 

Demi opened the car door and climbed in, I climbed in on the passenger side and Demi drove off. "Anything you want to talk about with me?"

"I don't think so. Maybe one day, but not now." I told her. I hadn't thought about my pregnancies for a while. I tried to push them out of my mind, but talking about this whole thing just made me remember. Six times, six possible children, and six times a man was careless. Not only that, but over 6,000 times a man has done things to me. Or made me do things to him. Over six thousand.

Now that it's really hitting me, it's just making me think, I am such a slut.  Not as bad as my mother, but still. 

"Well, let's go. Where do you wanna go? Do you wanna get some- Hey! Choose a fucking lane asshole!- Do you want to get some frozen yogurt, or some dinner, or what?" Demi asked, pausing to yell at a fellow driver who replied with a finger gesture in the air.

"I'm not hungry." I told her. Demi gave me a look. "Okay, Let's go out for dinner."

"Something's really effecting you isn't it?" 

"Therapy really makes you think Dems. It really makes you feel, and realize what a messed up life you have, or at least it's doing that for me." I said.