Faults, Scars, and Guitar Strings

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I've been writing in my new Lolita journal every day. David was right because it does make me feel a little better. Not completely but a little is better than nothing, or so David keeps saying. David got me out of bed and forced me to run on the treadmill, take a shower, and get changed so he could take me some place. His bodyguard showed up early and we were all in hats and sunglasses to avoid being recognized. I wanted to scream when he told me to wear it. After everything he's told me lately he's still hiding me like it's something to be ashamed of. This is exactly why I felt worthless and invisible in the first place. I do not like the fact that most of my family feels like they need to hide me.

"Now you're back to being ashamed of me?! What the hell David?! Am I that terrible of a sister?! Why don't I disappear now and save you the pain? That was my original plan in the first place!"

"Kayla, stop it!" he snapped, "I don't want you to be trampled, that's it! It has nothing to do with you. I am not ashamed of you! I will never be ashamed of you, got it? Is it wrong to hide from the paparazzi so we don't get bombarded or injured?! Is that wrong now?! Does that make me a bad person?!"

"Yeah, whatever," I rolled my eyes.

He argued, "No, not whatever. I want an answer. Go ahead."

I sighed, "I don't like being hidden! That was part of the problem in the first place! I felt invisible and it always seemed like my family was ashamed of me. I cannot even attempt to recover if my family still hides me."

"Kay, I promise that is not what I am doing. I absolute hate the paparazzi. Even when I am only walking in the city with my bodyguards I always try to wear a disguise to hide from them. They don't understand what privacy is. It has nothing to do with you, okay? I promise, when the time comes, I will happily tell the world you are my sister."

"You will?"

He nodded, "I will."

"Okay," I agreed.

Wherever we were going it wasn't far away. The drive took less than a half hour. I was too mad at David to keep up a good conversation. I think he wanted me to think our argument through, or let me calm down before saying anything else. I looked out the window and screamed when I saw the sign.

"You're sending me to rehab?! What the hell David?! I thought you were trying to help me?! Now you're going to lock me up?!" Did he figure out my plan? Did he read my journal? Maybe he saw what I've been trying to do and he's giving up on me. Maybe he is stopping me from killing myself.

"No," he immediately shook his head and grabbed me to make sure I didn't jump out of the car, "We're not here to lock you up."

"Then why are we here?" I snapped.

He sighed, "We're here because I made an arrangement with the people who work at this place."

"What kind of an arrangement?" I asked getting annoyed that he wasn't answering my question.

"A therapist here agreed to talk to you. They also agreed to let you sit in with their activities today."

"Are you going to stay?"

He nodded, "I'll be here the whole time. I won't even leave your sight that way you're positive I'm not leaving you there."

"Okay," I nodded agreeing only after he mentioned not leaving my sight. I will not let them lock me up. "You can't lock me up. I will not let you. I will run away before I let anybody lock me up."

I didn't like the idea of seeing a doctor but if it gets everybody off my back I realized I needed to go through with it. David agreed to sit on the chair outside the doctor's office while I went in to talk with the doctor. It was a middle aged lady. She somehow reminded me of my mom. She had medium length brown hair and bright blue eyes. She smiled at me politely telling me to make myself comfortable. How can I be comfortable here? I am sitting in a mental hospital talking to a doctor who will force me to tell her every part of my life. I do not see how anybody could make themselves comfortable in an environment such as this one.