Attention Truelove

Chapter 22

POV: Skylar

"Your mother is here to see you," the nurse says.

"I don't want to see her," I turn on my cot and face the white wall.

"Skylar—"

"Please go away."

"Skylar you need to talk about what happened."

"Nothing happened!" I raise my voice.

The nurse sighs.

I close my eyes, curling my legs up. The stiff sandpaper-like fabric of the white scrubs makes a loud sound with each leg movement.

How did I get here?

Oh yeah...

"Jumped off a bridge!? What were you thinking!" Mom yells.

"Ma'am please calm down. Your daughter isn't in her right state of mind. She needs more treatment." The nurse calms mom down.

"Luckily police were able to get there in time before anyone got hurt." The doctor explains. "In my experience actions like these are often calls for attention. Finding out why she did this is key to helping her heal. We've contacted her therapist and the last five people she talked to leading up to the event."

"Skylar how did this happen, talk to me." Mom begs.

Even though I told them not to let her in, they let her anyway.

"She hasn't been cooperating with us, we were hoping someone close to her could help her open up about the incident."

The incident...

"Skylar, please." Mom begs.

"She didn't want to talk to her girlfriend either, she kept calling this number right before the incident. Do you know it, it wasn't listed." The doctor shows mom.

"Jade." She says.

I feel tears well up.

"Well we can try and call her again but she hasn't been—"

"Don't!" I finally sit up.

They all turn to look at me.

"Don't call her anymore," I beg.

They all look at me with equal looks of pity and worry.

"It was just a moment, I wasn't thinking clearly. I was high, I wasn't trying to kill myself." I explain.

"High?" Mom says in confusion.

"Vida..." I sigh and run my hands down my face.

"Skylar what is going on, first you tell me you're getting help, therapy, which I was all for. Then you start missing sessions, and skipping class, and now this!? What is happening? I hardly recognize you anymore." Mom sits next to me.

"Let me start at the beginning, but please... don't call Jade. Please." I beg.

The doctor nods but he and the nurse sit to listen.

It all started several weeks ago when Aphrodite finally found me a therapist. This was the third therapist, the first two I turned down and rejected because therapy turned out to be a lot harder than I thought. Forcing me to face truths I wasn't ready to face.

But Aphrodite was relentless and said if I didn't give this therapist a fair chance then I could forget about us. She told me I wasn't even trying. So there I was, standing in front of that brown door, my muddy shoes staining the red carpet.

It was raining that night, and I walked there. Trying to be late so I could miss the appointment. But she had anticipated that. This therapist knew all about me and my plan to not go. Aphrodite had told her everything, so she was waiting for me.