Runaway

Chapter 15

"I'm ready to talk," I mumble, taking a seat on the same memory foam couch. Ms. Albert crosses her legs, setting down her pen.

"What brought this on?" She chuckles, clearly impressed by herself. Completely unaware that she had nothing to do with it.

"Shawn," I reply plainly. The fight we had opened my eyes. He was completely right. Why would I get involved with anyone if I wasn't able to open up? It wasn't easy for him to tell me about his past, and he did it anyways. If I can't bring myself to talk about what happened to me, I'll end up just like him. Alone. "He's more than a friend, but we're fighting because I won't talk about it."

"Talk about what?" She pries, knowing already what I'm talking about and still forcing me to say it out loud.

I sigh, "I won't talk about my scars or my past, I won't tell him about the fact that both my parents abused me and that's why I'm here." Her eyes widen with curiosity and concern. "He doesn't know that I ran away, he doesn't know that I was abused. All he knows is that I have weird scars and issues with my past." She nods, picking up her pen again.

"Why do you think you can't tell him?"

I think it's pretty obvious why I can't tell him, but I'll play her stupid game. "I don't know why don't you tell me!" I reply sarcastically. She grins, unamused. I groan, regretting saying anything. "I can't tell him because I have trust issues."

She clears her throat and nods again. "When you think about trusting someone, what is it that makes you afraid? What do you think will happen if you trust people?"

"They'll hurt me."

"How?"

"They'll leave."

"But your parents didn't leave," she continues, "you did." As soon as she says it, I regret coming. What is she trying to say? That it's my fault I have these issues? What kind of therapist blames the patient?

"I left because they were abusing me," I scoff. "I'm sorry should I have stayed and gotten beat some more? Is that your professional advice?" My blood boils as she scribbles something down on her paper.

"No," she replies. "I'm just talking it through with you." A small smile forms on her face as she continues, "If your parents never left you, why do you think the people you trust will?"

I take a deep breath, thinking about her question. Is my answer wrong or something? "My Aunt Joyce did. She saw what was happening and she left anyway." Even if behind the scenes she was trying to help, it doesn't change the fact that she did leave.

"So your trust issues aren't about your parents? They're about your Aunt?" I shake my head.

"No. They're about my parents."

"What about your parents?"

"What about them?" I scoff. "I think it's pretty obvious."

"Humor me," she smiles. I roll my eyes. "So it's not that you're afraid they'll leave you. What are you afraid of?"

"That they'll hurt me," I say again. I thought we already went over this.

"Hurt you in what way?" I clench my fists together angrily. Have we not already gone over this? Was my answer not good enough the first time?

"I don't know they'll just hurt me."

"Physically? Like your parents did?"

"I don't know emotionally too I guess."

"But in what way?"

"I don't know you tell me!" I shout, tired of all the questions. It feels like I'm being interrogated, and I can't think like this.

"Okay," she grunts, uncrossing her legs and leaning towards me. "I think your issues, are about the fact that the two people who were supposed to love you and take care of you; the first two people who you trusted, are also the ones who broke you. They tore you apart both mentally and physically and they broke your ability to trust. You can't tell Shawn about your scars, because you've never experienced a real relationship. And I don't mean a romantic one, I mean any relationship at all. You don't know that some people are good. You don't know that your Aunt and Uncle sent you here, because they want what's best for you. Some people can surprise you, but you'll never know if you don't let someone in. Your parents are weak, and they have already taken too much from you Mai. Your Aunt, Uncle, little cousin, and maybe even Shawn love you. You just have to let them."

She kicks back her feet, crossing them again as she lays back in her chair. She passes me a tissue box, waiting for me to take one. I blink a few times, before realizing that I'm crying. My face is soaked with tears, tears that I didn't even know I had in me. I stare at her blankly, unsure how to respond.

"H-How?" I finally mutter, wiping my wet cheeks.

"I can't tell you how," she whispers. "But I know you can do it."

***

"I'm sorry."

Aunt Joyce, Dave, and Lily all look up from their dinner, watching me standing in the doorway.

"I'm sorry for being so immature about therapy," I continue. "You guys want what's best for me. You..." I pause to take a deep breath, remembering what Ms. Albert said. "You're all just trying to love me... and I have to let you."

They get up from the table, wrapping me in a big group hug. "It's okay honey of course it's okay."

"It's just hard for me because I've never had that before," I whimper, holding them close.

"We know Mai," they console me, "we know it's okay." We finish our hug, and they offer me dinner.

"Actually..." I mumble. "There's one more person I need to talk to." They smile, wishing me luck, as I run out the door.

I dial Shawn's number anxiously, sliding into my car. I pray he'll answer, even if our last conversation was a difficult one.

"Hello?" His deep, smooth voice speaks through the phone, shaking me to the core.

"I need to talk to you."