"This isn't you Cade." My voice is small.
I don't know if I'll ever understand why he suddenly changed, but I'm grateful he did. Whatever happened to him is a benefit to what is happening to us right now.
Cade tucks the strands of my hair that fall...
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"Answer me Cade, what was the trigger?" I drag the palm of my hand down my face, making a sigh.
I part my lips to speak, but nothing comes out. "There's always a trigger. Something or someone that prompts it out of you or stirs it up." She's right, there really is a trigger. Everytime.
I've had a series of set-off moments, but some are more vivid and memorable than others.
When I was seven, it was triggered by a bully who pushed me off a swing multiple times, just for the fun of it. I threw a lot of punches at him with my little hands then.
I remember setting someone's car on fire at twelve or thirteen. I can't remember the exact person now.
My parents divorce had a major effect on me and it triggered me.
And when I was sixteen, it was triggered by the people I thought were my friends. My ex girlfriend cheated on me with my best friend and both my two best friends planned, so they could see me end up in jail.
I've successfully tried to not do anything or surround myself with people that can become a trigger to me for a year and half in counting since that time.
But that was until an innocent-looking girl with hazel eyes that can kill me, voice that can break me and smile that can save me came into my life.
She's my safest, but most dangerous trigger and she doesn't even know it.
"Cade are you listening to me? I asked you a question." It's either I tell my Mom myself or she'll find out the way she always does.
My Mom is a Psychiatrist, that's why she has always been conscious of this side of me. She wasn't and isn't allowed to diagnose me, but it didn't stop her from studying me.
She knew something was wrong with me from a very young age when I first started switching up.
She has studied how I talk, my tone, my body language, my moods, my actions, my words--- basically everything about me. That's how she can easily differentiate between the normal Cade from the other Cade.
The other Cade that I am now. The one I've finally accepted I want to be.
The last time we spoke, she knew something had happened to me just by how I spoke to her. That's why she kept insisting I go back to Scottvile.
"Mom it's--" I cut myself off.
"It's what? It's who?" She pushes me to go on.
"It's her Mom." The sun shines down on me, making the moment a lot more worst.
"Who?"
"It's Freya." I finally say.
"Who's Freya?" I'm not making any sense to her. I can tell by how confused she sounds.
