Of Pain | COMPLETED

Chapter 9

Yes. I know.

Mitch was a bad boy and a player.

I know.

I gave an involuntary shiver before making my way out of the pitch. I didn’t need that mental picture in my head at all as I chugged down more coffee into my system. Everyone who had witnessed the impromptu match congratulated me again as I passed them to get to my bags. It seemed that they had forgotten about their hate towards me and about the incident that had happened a year ago. It was so weird sometimes, people actually smiling at my way instead of the usual scowl that I had received less than a year ago. Everything drastically and dramatically changed when I was voted Captain and won some championship for the school.

So dramatic really.

…

Twenty minutes later, I was seated in the waiting room of my psychiatrist’s clinic. I had left my bag and my shoe bag in Jase’s car as he had fetched me just now so I just sat there bored out of my mind. The only thing that was occupying me was my phone but I grew bored after that.

I ran a hand through my hair as I waited for the girl who came in earlier to get out of the office so I can go through this bullshit as painless as possible. Before I had reached here, I made Jase stop by a coffee shop so that I can top-up my tumbler. So now I was seated in the frigid air with a tumbler filled with warm coffee.

That was the only thing keeping me warm.

I was still wearing the same sweatpants and the black tank top earlier on. I had changed shoes and wore my high-top sneakers. To anyone who passes by this room, I might look like some hip-hop dancer. I gazed at myself at the nearest mirror that I can see. True, I look like a dancer. With my lithe frame and the way I hold my body.

There’s something powerful and confident with the way I held myself.

If I compared with myself now and two years ago, I would say that I am more confident and more level-headed than I had been before. I wasn’t so outgoing, I wasn’t so happy and I wasn’t even that confident. I used to hate myself, I used to hate everything about me and I have a small self-esteem.

I think thanks to my friends, thanks to my psychiatrist-Emily and thanks to my own will, I grew stronger in mind and body. Heck, I wasn’t even fully healed yet but I was getting there sooner or later. It’s just that I still need plenty of time to adjust to the normalcy of my life. There is still the fear and the paranoia that was brewing inside me.

I can never stem those from controlling my movements or my thoughts. I can never stop fretting over things. I can never stop worrying and flinching whenever anyone wants to touch me. I can never stop dreaming about those beatings that I had suffered throughout my life. It’s not that simple. I can’t just snap my fingers and wish that everything was okay. I wish I could but it was impossible.

I sighed.

But I was getting there. I didn’t flinch nor push away whenever the boys sling their arm over me or when Mitch gives me his usual hugs and kisses. I was getting better, I didn’t have that fear anymore and I didn’t have that repulsion to my own self. I do have my own breakdowns every now and then but I think I’m better than I had been years ago.

I felt better. I felt stronger.

About ten minutes of mindless thinking, I saw the previous girl leave the room. I didn’t spare her a glance because I knew she’d be glaring at everyone else she sees. That was her way of protecting herself. She’d put up a fake front so that no one would break down that shield. She’s the usual punk-goth kind of girl and that was just part of her bravado. She’s like everyone else, easy-going and happy but only a certain amount of people are able to see that side of her.