𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘛𝘳𝘦𝘦

Chapter One: Miss Dia

 "Temperance, my dear." Miss Día said in a calming voice.

I knew what it meant, I've had to google it so many times before this visit. It's been burned into my head like a cigarette, and it hurts more every time. I've gone to my therapist for almost two years now, and while she was kind, she couldn't understand my problems.

"Chantelle, do you know what that word means?" She asked again.

"I-yes Miss Día, I know what the fancy word for alcohol addiction is." I said, sort of thrown off from her question. I'm 17, and go to a fancy private school, they drill vocab into your brain like there is no tomorrow.

"Now, I know how long you have been drinking, but I need you to tell me." She said again in her annoyingly calm voice. "I want you to know how long you have been drinking. While you may think it's not a long time, when you hear it aloud it really puts you in perspective."

"I've been drinking for a year, Miss Día," I replied.

"One year, four months, and twelve days." She corrected it.

I put my head down. She didn't need to be this picky. Of course I knew she was just trying to help me, but I can't help but feel as if she's rubbing it in. It's hard to stop, and I've gotten better, I haven't had a sip in a month. New record.

Miss Día is silent for a moment, she could read me like a book. She knew all my problems in an instant from just reading my body language. She knows when I'm lying and when I'm sad. I hide my emotions pretty well, not even my parents can do it. Miss Día is almost like a better mom to me than my real mom.

"So how is school going?" Her voice cut through the silence in the air.

"It's summer." I reply, a little harsher than I anticipated.

"I'm aware, I mean have you seen any of your friends lately, what about Becca? She always seemed like a nice girl."

"She's just nice, nothing more, nothing less." I reply bitterly.

Miss Día can sense I don't want to talk anymore, she sighs and jots some notes on her notepad. She clicks her pen on the table once she is done.

"Why don't we wrap this up now." She says,

"Agreed." I add.

"Would you like me to charge your aunts insurance?" Miss Día asks.

"I'm sure that will be fine." I reply, grabbing my keys and phone sitting on the table. Miss Día types something on her computer and wishes me goodbye.

My Aunt Mary has been so kind to me, she knows I don't want my mom and dad knowing I'm going to a therapist. I don't need their already demeaning attitude towards me to worsen because of Miss Día. When I told her I wanted to go to a therapist, she added me to her insurance so I can go without my parents knowing. Whenever I go out, they think I'm just going over to my boyfriend's house, John.

Of course I love John, he has really tried to be there for me when I really need it. We've been dating for almost two years now, although I think he only likes me because I'm black. I have grey or blue eyes, which is sort of unnatural from my dark skin. I've been asked constantly if I wear contacts. The rest of my family has plain brown or black eyes, and the classic dark brown curls. Going to a white public school really makes me stand out even more, that might be the one reason he likes me.

I unlock my car and drive home. My dad should be in the living room, screaming at my mom for the right reasons. Remember how I said earlier Miss Día was like a second mom to me? Yeah, she's been extremely rude and using him, my dad has taken it for so many years that he finally broke one day. They've been fighting almost everyday since then.

Me and my eight year old little sister, Julia, hide in my room when they do. We can hear screaming, yelling, and glass breaking every now and then. But, when you are exposed to that sort of thing for so long, you get used to it.

I once read a story online. It was about a London officer who was so exposed to people dying — bombs making buildings beg for mercy, that even when there was an active bomb still lying on the ground, they would build a building around it like it was nothing. A civilian found one seven years later and the whole building was evacuated.

I take a right turn into my neighborhood, Maryland always has the same houses in every neighborhood. Plain, beige, and boring. The front lawns are all the exact length and width, and no one has a backyard. A classic white neighborhood for you. Strict police officers and no crime, my parents thought it was perfect. I'm not saying it's completely horrible, although, every white woman over the age of 40 is either named Karen, Judy, or Linda. They are also always involved in something extracurricular their kids are in, like dance moms, soccer moms, and the bitchy PTO moms.

I'm pulling into my driveway, when I get a text from Becca, the closest thing to a friend for me. While yes, she's nice and all, whenever I try to tell her my real problems, she can't take me seriously. She's more like a friendly acquaintance to me than anything else.

Becca: hey, u busy?

Chantelle: yeah kinda.

Becca: are you sure you really are?

Well, I guess Miss Día isn't the only one who can read me like a book, even through a screen.

Chantelle: yeah, babysitting Julia.

I really wasn't, but I had such a long day of Miss Día beating me down with questions that I just wanted to be alone.

Becca: well i just wanted to tell you and Adam kissed.

Chantelle: wow, fun for you. Ima head out.

I can see the grey three dot bubbles appear on my screen. I click out.

For some reason, I felt like today was going to be different.