Finding Avery

Chapter 12

"P-prison." I mumble.

"Avery. It's not safe. It's not prison. You just have to let someone know." She says.

I sigh and walk past her, heading to my room and flopping into the bed.

I close my eyes and think about how my life feels like rehab.

Flashback - October 2019

"Alright, it's your free time, but Avery can you wait up?"

I groan and wait in my seat.

"How are you?" Christine asks.

"Are you fucking serious? I'm horrible. I want to go home." I say.

She sighs, "You had a visit fairly recently."

"Not a visit. I want to go home. Permanently." I say.

She shakes her head, "You're not ready. I've been in touch with your family-"

"You've been talking to them? About me? Without me?!" I say, getting upset.

"You know that we talk. They're worried, we do family therapy and when you're ready, then you'll join those sessions too." She says.

"Great, less free time." I murmur.

"This isn't a vacation, Avery. You need to put in the work to get better. The work includes talking, getting to the root of why you drink, do drugs, and are just angry."

"I said that I don't want to! I don't want to talk! I just want to disappear!" I tell.

I look down and I hear a chair move closer.

"Your sister wants to come see you." She says.

I shake my head, "I don't want to see Alex."

"Why not?"

"Just because. I just want to go home. This place is a prison." I say.

"I know it feels that way, but it's not. This is the best place for you."

'It's not, it's a prison.'

Present -

I sit in my bed and stare at my phone, Tori and I's text message chain pulled up.

I start typing.

Me: I miss you. Can we talk?

I look at all of the messages that haven't been responded to and sigh.

I hear a knock so I throw my covers over me.

Someone walks in and I feel them sit on my bed.

I hear a gasp and my eyes widen.

I feel them get up and then my door close.

I remove the covers and search for my phone, which is missing.

'Shit well now they will know I'm crazy.'

Alex POV -

"How do we approach this?" My mom asks.

I stare at Avery's phone that has a text thread open with Tori.

"I don't even know. I mean mom, look at this. This is like she's actually talking to her as if she's alive." I sigh.

She looks at me sadly, "She doesn't really talk about her. She misses her so much."

I nod and scroll through the texts for the last six months, no responses from Tori, but Avery is texting like Tori is responding.