Wallflower's Weekly Writing

Chapter 2- {Band Of Choice}

Lilian's POV
Yes, my name is Lilian. Lilian Greene. It's been a week, and today is the day I get to see my new therapist. Yay! *note the sarcasm* I'm betting myself over everything I own, that this therapist is going to do everything the others have done.
"Hello, Lilian, And Miss Greene! Have a seat! Let's get to know each other!" She said in her obnoxious, blaring voice.
"Well sweetie. Tell her about yourself." My mom whispered.
"Well uh- I like bands." I said simply.
"Well that's cool, my daughter loves bands. What kinda bands do you like?" She asked. Wait, is this lady seriously interested in my band of choice?
"Well, I like Zac Brown Band, and FGL. I like country. But I also like Pop, rap, oh! Also I love Skrillex - Diplo too!" I said sounding excited. (AN:I know some of those are not bands, just artists .)
"Oh my! My daughter absolutely loves listening to EDM! You two sound much too alike!" She said laughing.
"Seriously? I'm so screwed up, I didn't think I had anything in common with anybody." I chuckled shaking my head. The room was silent for a moment. They both were staring at me with compassion. And my therapist, almost... Empathy?
"You aren't as screwed up as you think you are." She said in a serious tone.
"Ya okay. You don't even know me." I said rolling my eyes.
"I know more than you think." she said confidently, staring at me with her bright blue eyes.
"Okay." I said looking at the ground. I didn't really have time to argue, and besides I didn't know how to respond.
"So, what seems to be the problem?" My therapist asked. {still don't know her name} I sat there with a blank expression, not really caring about her opinion.
"No body likes me." I stated simply.
"Ok. Let's take this step by step. We will begin talking about why no body likes you. So you may start." She said.
"I don't know where to start." I said looking at the ground, softly laughing coldly.
"Do you have friends?" She asked.
"No." I said.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" She asked. I clenched my jaw, before muttering..
"No."
"Do you have a life before school?" She keeps asking the questions.
"No." I said simply.
"Okay. Now answer me this. Why? Why don't you make an attempt to a better life." she said, almost angry.
"Because I can't." I said angrily.
"No. You can, but you won't." she said.
"Tell me how I can then!" I yelled, getting angrier by the second.
"First, you need to tell me what you're feeling! Tell me why Lilian. Tell me why." She said calmly.
"What do you mean!? What do you mean by 'why'?!" I asked.
"I can't tell you how to help yourself, unless you tell me why you don't try?" She said too calm for my liking.
"Why I don't try?!! I did try, lady! I did! Haven't you seen me. I have bags under my eyes! I have scars on my wrists! Just 2 weeks ago I almost downed 20 pills!!! I gave up!!!" I said screaming. And then it hit me. I just said it. I just said what I did 2 weeks ago. No. No. I can't go to a mental institution. My mom shouldn't know. She wasn't supposed to know.
"Why didn't you?" The lady said. How much nerve did this bitch have?
"Because." I said calming.
"Why?" She said.
"Stop." I said. I didn't want to admit something, Something I just found out myself. I didn't kill myself, because I wanted to live. I wanted to be there for my mom. I don't wanna give up, not yet.
"No tell me. Tell me why." She said.
"Because - I don't wanna die. I'm not ready, something is just telling me not to." I said shrugging.
"You are one stubborn chick. But it's good you made your decision on living. You are strong." She said. I chuckled, looking over at my mom. She didn't look as amused.
"Uh- mom." I said quietly.
"Honey- I didn't know." My mom said crying. This is exactly why I didn't want her to know.
"It's okay mom. I didn't do it. I'm sorry." I said.
"Scars?" She said. I just looked at the ground.
"Why?" She asked. I internally thought about how my mom is asking why I did it, and how my therapist asked why I didn't do it.
"Mom, I'm a wallflower. Nobody likes me, it's like I'm invisible." I said, never being this open.
"Why do you categorize yourself as a wallflower?" My therapist budded in.
"I just told you I have no friends. Nobody likes me." I said.
"Is there a reason?" She asked.
"I don't know. They just don't." I said.
"Do you get bullied?" She asked.
"No. I don't need to be bullied to be broken. I do it all myself. Even though I would probably rather be bullied. At least people would be acknowledging my existence." I said chuckling.
"That's an interesting theory. Even though I don't agree with you. Why do you truly cut yourself, and when did you start?" She asked. Dang it! She asked. I don't want to talk about this. But I have to right? I mean maybe this therapist understands me? Maybe she won't actually give up on me?
"It all started when I killed my ex boyfriend." I said calmly. "Oh and by the way, what's your name?" I asked.
..................
5/14/15
Today was definitely hectic. Luckily, we ran out of time before things really got complex. But I knew it wasn't gonna end here. I dreaded saying that to Linda (yes I finally figured out her name). I hated even thinking about the incident. That's why I never told anyone about it. I don't know why I did today. Well- I didn't tell her about it yet. I'm dreading that even more. Wow, like I said, hectic day. I started out talking to her about my band of choice, escalating to that famous 'I killed a man once' quote.
~Wallflower's Weekly Writing
{updated weekly}