What to do now. *book two*

Mental dissorders

I'm sat in a cafe.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Nobody has spoken to me outside of work before...

I look up from my glass of water.

Maurice? What...

"I... I quit... are you okay?"
"I..."

I didn't really know what to say.

I sipped my water, and didn't answer.

"I... I could come stay with you if you want? So you aren't as lonely."

I nod.

"So... how've you been the past... seven years?"
"Okay..."
"You sure?"

I nod.

"Don't speak as much as you used to, so you?"

I shake my head, "don't want to..."
"I feel like it's partially Karl's fault."
"..."
"He kept making you talk in short sentences. He told you you couldn't use intelligent or big words. He then made you answer in only a few words, if any. It's partially his- mostly his fault."
"And the torture..."

He sighs, walks round and hugs me, "I'll try to protect you, I promise..."

I hug him tightly.

"How old are you now?" He asks.
"hundred thirty three..."
"Cool. Shall we go home now?"

I nod and we go out to the my car and I drive us home...

I lie in bed that night, insulting myself.

I'm naive.

I don't deserve anything.

I'm too easily tricked.

I should be dead.

I'm worthless.

I'm stupid.

I'm an idiot.

I over think.

I over worry.

I don't deserve friends.

I don't deserve love.

I don't deserve freedom.

I don't deserve help.

I don't deserve therapy.

I don't deserve kindness.

I don't deserve to live...

I beat myself up about how weak and naive I was and still am and I cry myself to sleep...

I wake up screaming and Maurice runs in, only split seconds after I start screaming, "what's wrong!?"

I can't stop screaming. I had had a nightmare.

He holds me tightly and reassuringly.

I cry against him, the tears rolling down my face uncontrollably.

"I think you should see a doctor..."

I don't say anything. I just press against him, needing the comfort.

"Let's get you to a doctor, okay?"
"N-now?"

He nods.

I then nod, "okay..."

He helps me dress because my hands are shaking so much.

He sees the bandages on my wrists but chooses to ignore them. I'm glad he does.

He drives us to the hospital as well, and keeps me upright as we're walking.

My legs feel like jelly.