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𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦
ꜱᴏɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ
𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲 - 𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐞
My mother used to say that for a surgeon, a day without death is a rare gift.
Mallory Shepherd sat across from her new therapist at Seattle Grace Hospital. She found it more difficult to open up to someone that she didn't know, someone that didn't prompt her with exact questions. She sat with her arms crossed against her chest in the chair.
"Since the, since the miscarriage," Mallory started, tapping while she spoke. "I have learned not to blame myself, that it was not preventable, that it was no one's fault."
"Okay," the therapist nodded along before she questioned. "And with everything that's happened. How do you feel about all of that?"
"About my reckless impulses with alcohol?" Mallory retorted with a raised brow. "Well, that's been a grey area for as long as I can remember."
"That's something that I want to hear about," the therapist replied, jotting down different things on her notepad. "Let's start with your childhood. Was it a normal, happy childhood? Or was there anything indifferent?"
She leaned further back into her chair; the topic made her more uneasy. With her head kept down, Mallory explained. "Well, I never lived with my mother. Not since I started kindergarten. And then there's my sister, Amelia; she's always hated me."
"Hates a strong word—"
"But it is the right word to explain how Amelia and I feel about each other," Mallory bluntly responded. "When we were younger, she was wild and fell into the wrong crowd. I was her younger sister who wanted to look up to her."
The therapist eagerly nodded, this time writing more down on her notepad. Mallory knew that this was the topic that all therapists wanted to hear about, what started it all, but there was nothing Mallory hated talking about more than her sister Amelia.
Every day we face death. Every day we lose life.
"Okay," was all her therapist said at first. "Why do you think the two of you resent each other?"
"Well, that's a long story. I think it's because I never struggled as much as she did. She wanted me to, that's why she crashed our brother's car with me inside," Mallory answered with a shrug, not going very far into any details. "I haven't spoken to her in years. But, I'm very close with my other three sisters."
"Okay, that's a start," the therapist smiled in response. "Let's go back to that day. Why do you think you started drinking?"
"Um, well," Mallory started tapping her finger again. "I was trying to forget."
