Built From Ash - Sequel to Burned Out

Chapter 9: Making Progress

As soon as the plane was in the air, Skeppy fell into a blissful, dreamless sleep. It was for the first time since everything had happened that he hadn’t descended into a nightmare. When he awoke it was to the gentle shaking of the man sitting next to him.

“We just landed,” he said in a rough, gravelly voice.

“Thanks,” Skeppy said, rubbing his bleary eyes. Getting back to his house was a blur, and before he knew it he was home. Inside, Sapnap was sitting on the couch watching TV. Before Skeppy could utter a greeting, he heard a snore come from the couch. He walked closer to Sapnap, and saw him sleeping peacefully. He smiled a little, glad to see that Sapnap was okay, before snagging a bottle of water from the fridge and going to stream.

A few hours later, a knock sounded from Skeppy’s door. “I’m streaming!” he called. Sapnap opened the door and walked in.

“You’re streaming this late?” he asked, squinting at the bright monitor.

Skeppy shrugged. “It’s an Australian friendly stream.” Sapnap laughed.

“Give me a minute, I’ll go load up my PC.”

It almost felt like old times, streaming with a friend, and Skeppy nearly forgot about Bad and Dream and George. They ended the stream well after midnight, but stayed up late just talking. They avoided the last couple of weeks, but they talked about everything they could think of, especially good memories with their friends.

“Have you thought about therapy?” asked Sapnap abruptly as their conversation was nearing an end.

“Sure, I’ve thought about it,” replied Skeppy vaguely.

“I think I’m going to start going.”

“That’s good.”

“You should too.”

Skeppy looked up at Sapnap. “Why? How is it even going to help?” Sapnap shrugged.

“They’ve got grief counseling, you could even just go for anxiety. I know I’ve been so much more anxious and paranoid since everything happened.”

“You really think I should try it?” asked Skeppy. If Sapnap really thought it would help… well he trusted Sapnap.

“Yeah. I really do.”

“Okay then.”

It was a few days later when Skeppy sat down for his first therapy session. It had been a week since his visit with Bad and he planned on writing a letter to him later. He was sitting in a waiting room with hard plastic chairs and a colorful, abstract table with magazines sitting on it. He would’ve felt like he was waiting for a dentist’s appointment if it weren’t for the sweet cinnamon smell that blanketed the room.

“Skeppy?” called a voice from a door at the end of the room. He stood and walked to the room, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans in case he had to shake someone’s hand. He went through the door, made of cloudy glass with the words Dr. Hartman printed in neat script on a plaque.

The room was filled with comfortable morning light shining through the open windows. The floor was mostly covered with a fluffy white rug and there were two plush chairs separated by a small table with a couch situated across from them. On the couch sat a tall man with graying hair, though he seemed to be fairly young. He wore a plaid shirt tucked into a pair of khakis and a pair of glasses perched on his nose.

He smiled at Skeppy as he entered. “Take a seat,” he said. “I’m Dr. Hartman, what’s your name?”

“Skeppy. Nice to meet you.”