✒ Pink Ink ⚢ eng version

Prologue

Mr. Morris cleared his throat as he scrambled through the sheets. "How do you feel today, Talia?"

The same.

The void inside me is still the same size.

I'm confused.

Like shit.

When Mr. Morris cleared his throat once more to ask me to answer, I stopped playing with my half-black nail polish. ''Good. I'm fine.''

He shook his head at me in a fake way. I knew he didn't believe it. This psycho guy would even know my underwear was actually black if I told that it was blue.
Every time I came here, it was damn annoying that he treated me like I was sick. I wasn't sick. I was neither an obese person with a body full of fats because I ate all the time, nor an Anorexia Nervosa patient who saw herself that way when she looked in the mirror.

I was a seventeen-year-old, standard-body-sized girl, poor girl who found herself in front of a psychologist when her perfectionist mother diagnosed her with depression on her own because her daughter had broken up with the guy she had been together for 3 years that her mother liked a lot.

"Have you ever cried today?"

Maybe my mother made this ridiculous diagnosis because I was crying every night after I went to bed. I should have been quieter.

''No not yet.''

He nodded his head at me and took another one of his ridiculous notes in his notebook. "Talia, I know you're not ready," he continued. "But I have to tell you your problem."

Don't say that. Keep your fucking mouth shut.

I know that too. Just don't tell me, okay?

Do not say.

I held my hands onto my ears and closed them tightly. "No," I shook my head. "I don't want to hear that."

"Talia," I shook my head once more. They were gonna make fun of me. I was the flawed one around the majestic and expensive Chanel bags. "You're ... gay."