𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝚏𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚛 || 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙿𝙻𝙴𝚃𝙴𝙳

Chapter Twenty-Eight

"Thanks, mum," I mutter pulling together a list of every bit of fabric I need.

Time to go to the shops.

••••••

I sit in the doctors off waiting for him to come back with the results. My leg shakes, my palms are sweating to the point they're leaving stains on my jeans.

The door creaks open to reveal the doctor with a file in his hand. He looks at me with no emotions. His eyes flash me nothing. I have no clue what he's about to tell me. The tension is thick in the air. I feel my lungs becoming restricted as he shuffles through the files taking a few glances at me now and then. This is killing me. I fist the hem of my shirt trying to tame the shaking of my hands. He clears his throat locking his gaze on me.

"Are you sure you don't want to call someone?" he asks me for the final time.

I nod, "I'm sure I just want to know."

The doctor nods turning to me, "I'm not going to beat around the bush Charlotte-Rose I'm going to be straight up with you," I suck a deep breath in and nod, "The results have come back showing you have PTSD and by your timeline you've had it for a while but have been very good at acting like nothing is wrong," I watch the doctors lips move but all I can hear is a high pitch ringing noise.

PTSD...

PTSD.

P.

T.

S.

D.

I have PTSD.

I'm crazy. I'm medically crazy.

"Charlie-Rose, Charlie-Rose are you listening?" with my mouth gaping open I meet the doctors stare, "I know this is a lot to take in, but we have a plan to help treat your PTSD," his words spike my interest and I focus back into what he's saying, "Because of how long you've been without treatment and how this wasn't detected sooner we're not sure if psychotherapy is going to work," my lungs restrict.

"However, we're willing to try it for a month if that's what you want, but if not, we'll put you straight onto the medications," go straight on medication or try psychotherapy for a month even though it may not work, and I'll end up having to go on medication anyway.

"What do you recommend I do?" I ask watching him pull his bottom lip in between his teeth thinking about what to say.

"You can waste your money going to psychotherapy but to be honest I think it will be a waste of your time. You've been suffering from this for a while it's been over six months, so I would say it is best to just get you started on the medication. However, I would recommend seeing a therapist," I nod taking down metal notes.

"Am I allowed some time to think first before making a decision?" I ask.

"Of course, take some time to think it through I know it's a lot to take in, but we would like to start treatment as soon as possible."

"Okay well I'll think it through and get back to you by Sunday," the doctor nods and says his good-byes to me.

I take deep breaths as I continue walking to my car. My hands still shake it hasn't stopped. The air fills less and less in my lungs. My body feels like it's about to collapse at any second. The rain pelts down on my skin making an array of goosebumps travel along my body.

I finally get to my car drench in rain, "Fuck!" I shout hitting my head against the stirring wheel, "Landon is going to hate me," I sob, "I'm crazy," I grip onto the stirring wheel as the rain grows heavier, "I'M FUCKING CRAZY!" I kept my cool in front of the doctor, but I couldn't hold it in anymore. Landon is going to think I'm crazy just like I do. He's going to slam the door on my face and tell me to stay far away from him.