CHAPTER ONE: REAGAN

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The Goodbye..?

Oh no, please. Can't

We go back to page one

And do it all over

Again?

-Winnie The Pooh



Reagan: Hey, I'm at Common Grounds, where are you?


Reagan: It's been twenty minutes, I ordered us both Almond Milk lattes.

Reagan: Roe, I'm drinking your coffee.

Reagan: Taste like 'Reagan's drinking your coffee goodness'

Reagan: Did you go back to sleep?

Reagan: Robin?

                       

                                                    

                                                    

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          THERE'S A BIRD OUTSIDE and I think its wing is broken. It keeps trying to fly but doesn't get far before plummeting to the ground again. It does the same thing three more times before finally giving up. The poor thing is flapping about now, its movements are chaotic and so noisy, I can hear it from all the way up here on the third floor. Not being able to fly makes it vulnerable to attack from predators, and even birds know a moving forward  target is harder to capture. But every flap of its wing pushes it closer and closer to the road.

It's going to die. Crushed under the wheel of a car. I wonder if Erica will let me get him if I ask. It's still going to die, I'll never reach it in time. But at least I'll know that I tried. It feels like I'm always trying these days. Trying to get better, trying to be happy. Right now, I'm trying to stay focused while Erica jabbers on. The bird flaps onto the pavement, fluttering around for a while before falling into the road at the same time a car is making the bend. It's dead in a second, Its insides splattered on the ground. The car wasn't even going that fast, but what chance does an injured bird stand against a car?

“Reagan? Are you listening?” No, I'm not. I turn away from the window and the now dead bird to look at my therapist. I didn't even offer to help it. I wonder if pieces of its body are stuck to the wheel of the car as it drags its remains everywhere. A frown pulls down Erica's eyebrows when I don't answer, and she scribbles something in her little white notepad. I wonder what she's writing today. Reagan seems distant. Is Reagan taking her pills? Reagan's a spoiled little brat wasting her parent's money.

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