Therapy
Author’s Note
I wrote this when I was in the middle of working on the next chapter of my other story. It is an idea that wouldn't go away until I started writing it out. This hasn’t been edited yet. Or reread. So if you find any mistakes (which I’m very sure there are many) or if you have a suggestion just comment below. If you feel the need to you can PM me if you want to go into detail. This goes for all the chapters. And please be kind about it. Thanks for reading and helping :)
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High School was over for me. All I had left was graduation. It is true what they say High School will be some of the best and worst years of your life.
I had more than my share of the best. I was well liked by all, I was class president all 4 years, Head Cheerleader my senior year, straight A’s always, I was voted Prom Queen at my Senior Prom, and now I’m Valedictorian.
All my worst years came before High School.
“Kennedie, Honey! Are you done with all your things?”
“No!” I yelled back. It wasn’t necessary; she was already in my doorway. “ Granny you know I have a ton of stuff, I’m a pack rat.” I dug through a pile of papers I was sorting.
“Look, I have a spelling test from third grade and I didn’t even do good on it.”
She took the paper from me. My Granny was a kind old woman but young at heart. She always saw the bright side of things and wasn’t afraid to tell you what’s what.
“You might not have done so great but you always believed in yourself. Look at the note here you wrote for yourself.”
I took the paper back and read the note aloud.
“Kennedie, don’t let them silly words make you sad. You can beat them. Your so smart!” I smalled.
“I’ll just let you get done what needs to be. After tomorrow I know you won’t want to be fooling around with this.”
“Thanks Granny.”
I went back to sorting papers and reading my little notes to myself. They were on everything that was graded weather it be good or bad.
I was at it for about and hour before I came across a large Orange envelope that had Kennedie ’03-’04 on it.
The envelope was filled with papers. Some were drawings, some had my handwriting didn’t belong to me.
June 7, 2003 Session 4
Kennedie isn’t talking today. She wrote on a piece of paper that she wouldn’t go into who the ‘they’ were After sitting for half an hour refusing to talk to me. Kennedie started crying. I ended the session early.
Stabled to the paper was the one I had written. They told me I couldn’t talk.
I didn’t know what any of this was. “Granny!” I got up from the floor with the envelope and all it papers in hand. I made my way downstairs. “Granny, What is this?”
“What’s all the fuss about?”
“This! What is this?” I throw it at the table.
“Well let me take a look at it.” She took the envelope study it for a minute then the contents inside.
“Kennedie, this is from when you went to therapy.”
“Thearpy?” I said to myself. “When did I go to therapy? What for?”
“You had always been a brave child, who believed in yourself. But you had fell into a depression after your parents and sister died in the car crash.
I thought it was natural for you to be devastated about what happen. I never expected you to be happy about what happen. When months stretched into a year and you were still in the same state you were in the first day…I was worried. I sent you to therapy to try to help you.” Tears started to form in her eyes.
It will be nine years next month.
We were on our way back from Disneyland. Me, mom, dad, and younger sister Tracie. We were singing songs for the Lion King CD. When the car flipped over. Glass filled the air cutting everything. When the car stopped rolling Tracie was on the ceiling of the upside down car. She was after all still too small not to be in a carseat. I hung upside down by my seat belt. I couldn’t undo it because my arm was broken and the other one was pinned with the door. So I just waited for the pain to end. The radio still played songs from the Lion King.
I still can’t watch that movie.
