How I Got Into Rehab

Chapter 4

"Well, we you need a friend...I'll be waiting," she said and stands.

I move our of her way. Hoping she'll leave. I don't want her here she'll want to know. She'll get curious and I can't have that. I can't have that. I repeat in my head. Over and over again. And yet my feelings don't come to terms with my decision.

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Sweat trickled down my temple as I run through the forest as fast as I can.

I can hear my feet thumping against the hard ground.

He's behind me!

He's behind me!

Run faster.

So I do. I run faster. I feel the burn in my legs.

My heads pounding. My hearts pounding. I hear my heart in my ears bumping fast. I hear his loud thumps of his feet hiring the ground.

Run faster!

Hurry up!

He's behind you!

I can't run fast enough. My legs are slowing down. I feel my legs turn to jello. I feel like they can't move.

My movement is slow. He's catching up with me. He's going to kill me.

My legs feel like there walking through mud.

My movement gets slower and sooner or later I'm walking.

But my hearts still bumping fast and my head still hurts. I feel a pull on my messy ponytail. I fall back, easily.

"No,no!" I yelled. "Please don't do this!"

Jared's grey eyes see mine. There not Jared's. This is not Jared. Jared cares.

He cares. I can't do this. I can't let him do this. I turn to stand up by my forearms, but I am quickly pushed down to the ground.

I felt the weight of a foot on my back.

I exhaled sharply. I felt a hand grab my ponytail back, hard.

I cried out. He suddenly grabbed my forearms and turned me around.

"Please don't do this," I begged, I felt the tears prick my eyes.

Jared. This is not my Jared.

Jared isn't hard, cold, and emotionless:

He's not. He wouldn't be.

He grabbed my neck and wrapped his hands around my tiny neck.

I can't breath. I'm going to explode.

My lungs are exploding.

"Jared," I wheezed out. His grip tightened. I felt the tears prick my eyes.

One tear falls over.

The darkness is going to take over and this time it does.

I'm dead. Jared killed me.

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My eyes opened. I gasped for air and feel the thumping of my heart. It's so hot. I feel the sweat run down my back.

Gross. I shed the sheets from my body and feel the sudden balmy temperature hit my whole body.

I head for the bathroom, which didn't have a shower. Only a toilet and a sink. Sadly, you have to shower in front of people. It's horrible.

I turn on the sink and wash my face to feel the cool water. It felt good. I look up and see a weak girl.

I have dark brown hair and pale skin. My eyes are dark green. My cheekbones are wide and chubby. My nose is to perky and my waist as no curves. My boobs and butt are to big for a body like me.

I have dark bags under my eyes. Showing my lack of sleep.

I sighed. I don't feel like judging myself right now. I go back to bed, but I don't go back to sleep.

Because I can't.

I stayed up all night.

Thinking about Jared.

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"Come sit down," Lizzy encouraged. I sit in one of the white leather chairs right in front of her desk.

I sit down and Lizzy keeps her attention on the computer.

I sighed. This is going to be a long one and half hour, so I try to start a conversation.

"Why don't you like to be called from your last name?" I asked.

She doesn't even glance up she just keep typing around on her computer.

"I have my reasons why," she answered. Showing no thought of a conversation. I shrugged it off.

I throw my hands in the air. Completely frustrated.

"Oh my god! Be a therapist! Say something! I don't care what the hell it's about as long as I don't have to hear that damn clock tick every second!"

She stopped typing and looked up at me.

"My last name has a past and I don't want to open up with you if you don't open up to me," she said.

The clock ticks.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

I sighed in defeat.

I sit down in the chair.

"I don't want you to type on your computer well I talk okay?" I demand.

She nods. "Yes." I lean back in my chair.

Lizzy is currently smiling smugly.

"Tell me about your name, first," I said.

Her smile doesn't change.

"I was adopted and my last name is the only thing that ties me to my real parents. And I don't want to be tied to them. I don't want to remember them. They didn't want me so why should I want them," she said, sourly.

She shook her head.

"Anyway this isn't about me.

So tell me about you," she encouraged.

I shrugged.

"Where to do want me to start?" I asked.

She smiles.

"From the beginning."

I nodded.

"Well..."