Author: What's the one piece of advice you've been given that no matter how toxic it is you can't find yourself living without it?
Hope: It was a friend of mine that gave me this advice but it'll: be fake it till you make it.
~Hope Manchester.
••
Sam was smiling at me when I walked into her office.
"Good morning, Faith! How are you today?" Again with her bubbly personality I almost felt dizzy.
I sat on the couch opposite her - like I always did, keeping a large space between us. She noticed from the way her eyes stared at the couch as if she was trying to figure out the material it was made from.
"Well, I'm simply peachy, overly peachy. I think I swallowed a bucket full of sugar," she smiled even wider than I thought possible at my sarcastic answer.
"You're getting used to me," she nodded and I stared at her oddly. "If I would have asked you this a few days ago you would have said what do you think or not even reply me at all! So we're making some good progress," she nodded seeming almost excited. Was this how excited people get when they know they're about to pry into other people's lives?
I watched her, patiently waiting for her to slide the paper but she never did.
"I still want you to tell yourself honest things about yourself in the mirror," she told me and put on her glasses once again. "We're going to stop the tasks, at least until I know you're improving properly. We're going to start proper sessions from now on. You'll have to talk about a few things and I will make sure to help you with them, I just need to ensure you'll be able to open up better." She sounded so genuine, I hated it. Like she knew what was best for me and I didn't like that at all.
I glared at her. "Hasn't my mother already told you everything you need to know?" I asked her.
She nodded still looking at me. "Of course she has, but we both know that you told your mother as much as you told the police. Barely anything useful and kept all the details to yourself. She's only speaking from the newspaper. You're the source," I hated this, I just wanted to run away. Why was I here again? I enjoyed it when we avoided topics too touchy and focused on trying to get used to each other.
"So can you tell me what happened that night? I don't need the details just anything you're willing to offer, start small," she said softly.
I didn't want to do this, it was like rubbing salt on an open wound. But I sighed because I knew I couldn't escape it, they thought it was for the best, it wasn't. "What exactly do you want to talk about?" I narrowed my eyes at her. I was perfectly fine with keeping everything to myself, they were my problems, not theirs, my burdens not theirs. I didn't need therapy, they just needed to spend money on me to clear up their guilt a bit.
Pathetic.
"From when you left the gymnastics tournament, you don't have to finish it all, baby steps."
I inhaled.
••
"How was it?" Was Aiden's first question when I got into the car. The glare on my face answered his question.
"Shut up and drive," I mumbled and he did as I said, the air between us was tense for no good reason, he had done nothing wrong but in a way, he was the reason I was going through all this.
I knew he felt guilty about it, he had for months and I still know he thinks me staying with him would make me happier. It doesn't and it can't. It doesn't change the past, yes it can shape the future but who said the future would be nicer than the past?
No one, because life is a bloody asshole and cares for no one. It takes, gives and is partial. Doesn't care about the consequence. Doesn't care about the hurt or pain people go through every day.
And they thought sending me here would make me get better? It could not, I just wanted to go back to granny's, I felt at home and happy there. I felt safe.
"Do you um. . . Are you hungry?" He asked clearing his throat.
"No, I'm not hungry," thankfully he dropped it, just like he had dropped the subject of what happened today.
We pulled up in front of the house when he turned to look at me. "If you need to talk or anything—"
"Yeah, yeah, I already get that shit. Stop yammering already," he couldn't say anything before I left the car and ran inside the house.
My first instinct was to call Hope but I didn't. She had been there for the past few days. I didn't want to because not only were calls awkward but calling her meant I was relying on her. I didn't want to rely on anyone. I also didn't want to tell her about me doing therapy. And I wouldn't know how I'd slide out of that one if she figured it out.
She wasn't dumb, she would put the pieces together and then I would have to explain it.
Something I didn't want to do.
When I stepped inside I saw Chase and Hugo, they were deciding what movie to watch and looked up to smile at me.
"Hey, Faith!"
"What's up?"
They both greeted in sync. I passed them by and before they could complain I raised a hand.
"Don't! And no coming up to my room, I'm tired and I don't need you three stressing me out." I fumed, if I could see myself there would probably be steam coming out of my ears and nose.
When they didn't reply I walked up the stairs.
••
Hope was texting about her day and her brother Garrett. She seemed so happy that I could feel it over the text messages.
She filled me in on everything happening from how a Caitlin girl had almost fallen into a hole in the middle of the street and how a teenager named Rina had dyed her hair bright yellow even though her parents didn't want her to.
For a moment I wondered if she would tell me someone picked a bugger from their nose.
It was kind of sad how I looked forward to these texts, I didn't have to reply anything more than yeah, okay and cool but she'd make the conversation as lively as she could.
I guess it's her special talent.
Annoying rabbit:
You should meet my brother, Garrett lol. He's a bit insane. Can you even imagine? He stole my pillow!
I smiled at that and texted a really? But honestly, I was sure she was used to my short answers.
I was tired and drained from today but here I was waiting for her to reply.
This was sad on so many levels, but I hadn't texted first she had.
If she put this much confidence into texting her boyfriend maybe she would successfully break up with him.
I sighed as the messages from her kept on coming. I couldn't believe she told me until recently that the guy I punched was her boyfriend. Now I wanted to break his nose.
As she sent me a video of a duck dancing I almost found myself laughing.
This girl was a pile of work.
And even though I wanted to admit that I wasn't growing on her and she was just funny I knew I was lying. I didn't give just anyone nicknames.
I grinned when I saw another message from her, what would she do if she knew I saved her name as Annoying rabbit. She may end up bursting into tears.
I prayed she won't though, finding myself growing on her was wrong, especially for someone like me.
But I couldn't help it. I was building— ever so slowly— trust with her, I prayed she wouldn't break it.