The Life of Charlotte Diaz

Chapter 4. Breaking News

"Yes, we know what happened five years ago. And I'd rather not relive it. So, what about it?" She bit out, her voice tight with anger. Her hand sought out my own and she gripped onto it.

The doctor seemed not to notice, only kept those eyes on my stiff form. "Well, from I read, it seems that what happened five years ago traumatized you so much that you refuse to speak-"

"What does the past have anything to do with all of this? Spit it out already." My grandma glared, tightening her hold on my hand at the mention of the what happened those years ago.

Annoyance flashed through his eyes but, being the highly trained doctor he is, he kept his cool. "Ms.Diaz, I understand your sudden defense to this particular topic, but it must be discussed," he gave her a pointed look. My grandma just shot him a guilty look and turned her head, nodding in the process.

The doctor then turned back to me with a serious look on his face. I hated that look. "As I was saying, the traumatic event that you suffered five years ago, has caused you to suffer from PTSD, or Post-Traumatic-Stress-Disorder. The only difference for you, is that you don't act out violently when it happens. After notifying the symptoms of everything, and the very visible signs of insomnia, it was just a matter of common sense. Now, don't worry, Charlotte. I know that replaying that event is torture for you, but I can assure you that, with the right kind of help, it can go away. I'm not saying that you're sick or something, but PTSD can go away with the help of a therapist. PTSD cannot go away over one night. It will take some time. I have written down the number for a therapist that can help you. Also, it would be best if you try not stay in public places for too long, because with PTSD, you never know what can happen. The panic attack you suffered at school, was the cause of the emotional turn pipe you seem to be going through. Your mind is replaying events of the day that was five years ago. The reason why you have trouble sleeping at night is because your mind can't seem to stop conjuring up memories of the past. Now, again, it can go away. I mean, some patients grow accustomed to it over time. This is all your choice, though. After five years, however, I think you may have already grown used to it. Anyways, I also prescribed some pain killers, as headaches may appear frequently with the overwhelming stress you're going through. Now, I have to get back to another patient, so if you'll excuse me," he finally trailed off, shooting us a smile before opening the door. "Oh, and feel free to talk it over with each other. Personally, I'd recommend the therapist; better safe then sorry." Then, he walked out of the door, pretty much forgetting that there was no way we were going to be 'talking it over' since I wasn't talking anytime soon.

I didn't even know what to think when the door shut firmly behind him. I wasn't really in shock, though. I think I may have had suspicions that something was wrong with me. I just didn't think PTSD was what I was experiencing. I guess it does explain some things, like the doctor said. The trouble with sleeping at night, is the fact that the gunshots always ring through my head, and it gets hard to fall asleep. When I do fall asleep, the quietest of sounds can wake me up. The sound of the gunshots keep reverberating through my head, no matter how quiet it is. It can also explain the sudden exhaustion that seems to overtake me. Since I'm not sleeping too well, I just assumed that that was the cause of it.

Even though the doctor just informed me of the new news, I'm not really that worried about it. I don't want a therapist, either. He was right. After five years of constantly being reminded of the horrifying truth, I wasn't in such a bad shape.

Sure, the day ripped me from my innocence and shredded any last piece of love that was left of me, but it was bound to happen. They were bound to leave this Earth one day. It was cruel that they had to leave so soon, but I was no match for a man with a gun, anyways.

The past is what made everyone take a choice. The past, is what forced people into who they were today. The past, is what made me into who I am.

"Charlie, what do you say? Did you want the-"

Before she could finish her sentence, I was already shaking my head. She sighed. "Alright, then. I suppose I can go and ask when you can be discharged. Were you planning on going to school tomorrow?" She asked, and I knew she wanted me to say no. But I was fine. I knew what Nathan was planning, so I could keep my guard up whenever I was alone- which was probably all of the time.

I gave out a defeated sigh, casting my eyes upon the porcelain white ceiling. You're just not done yet, are you? I asked Him in my head, before closing my eyes.

* * *

It was past five o'clock when my grandma and I finally got home. On our way home, we stopped by the school to get my homework. After my grandma assured my teachers that I was okay and would be back tomorrow, we left.

I was currently working on the English homework, when she came in with a perplexed look on her face. I looked up, silently asking what she wanted.

She pointed downstairs. "There's a boy here who wants to see you. Claims it's insistent." She told me.

I furrowed my eyebrows together in confusion. Since when has anyone ever wanted to see me- a boy nonetheless. Than, a thought hit me.

Nathan.

What if he was here to persuade my grandma to take me out or something? What if it was him? What would I do? I could just tell my grandma to send him away. But I didn't even know who it was.

"Charlie..." she trailed off.

Finally, I sighed out and got up from my bed. I pulled down my Sleeping with Sirens band tee, so that it covered the little bit of skin that was showing. After that, I gulped back the fear, and bounded down the stairs to the front door.

To say I was shocked, would've been an understatement. I don't even know if there was a word that described what I was feeling. Confused? Angry? Surprised? Livid?

"Hey..." he waved awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head.

I arched an eyebrow at him, as if asking Exactly, what are you doing here?

He sunk his teeth into his lower lip, and I had to push away all the sinful thoughts going through my head. There was no way I was going to be attracted to him.

"I came to see if you were okay. The whole school was talking about how some group of girls found you dead on the bathroom floor," my eyes bugged out at that, "but I knew they were being over-dramatic. So I uh, came here to see if you were okay." He finished lamely.

By now, I was even more confused. Since when does Luke Carter look hesitant? Catching on to my confused look, he began again. "I'm just- I wanted to know what happened. If, like, someone hurt you or anything." He said, his voice growing softer by the second.

Before I could even give him another look, someone replied for me.

"May I ask, who you are?" My grandmother asked from behind me, causing my grip on the door knob to tighten to an unimaginable death grip.

Luke gulped. "We go to school together," and I torment her every chance I get.

I silently mocked him head, as I clenched my jaw.

My grandam nodded. "Well then, Charlotte is doing just fine. Just a little exhausted, is all. Why don't you come in for dinner, child. It's pretty chilly out there and I'm making my famous chicken Alfredo. I'm sure a growing boy such as yourself should be famished by now." She gave him a polite smile.

I shot her a death glare, but she ignored me. I guess it didn't matter. There was no way the Luke Carter would ever agree to-

"I would love to."