life is never easy a.i

11

Michael and i take a seat at a table. Michael opens his bag and takes his lunch out. I just sit there. I don't like food.

"Aren't you going to eat something?"

"No" i say.

Michael nods and keeps eating.

"I'm sorry for what he said back there. You didn't deserved that" michael says.

"It's okay" i say.

"No it's not, he has no right to say that. I'm sorry that i can't be there in class. I hope you know that what he says is not true. I care about you okay. Please, don't leave" Michael pleads.

This, this is why i can't do it. I want it so bad, but i can't leave Michael here. I know he cares about me.

"I won't" i say. I don't know if it's a lie, not yet.

-

"Do you sleep well at night?" My therapist asks.

"No"

"Do you try to sleep?"

"Of course i do. Do you think i enjoy staying awake all night?"

He writes something down.

"Alright. Why can't you sleep? Are you too deep in thought or are you making homework untill late at night?"

"I don't know. I never make homework, so that won't be it"

Since when is he so into talking, he never asks me anything. He writes something down again.

"Have you taken your medication?" My therapist asks.

"No" i answer honestly.

"You have to start taking it" he says.

I stare at him. "No i don't"

"You will have to, you are going downhill"

"I can do what ever i want with my life" i say.

"Okay, let's talk about your posttraumatic stress disorder"

"No" i answer, i really don't want to talk about that shit.

"You are going to have to talk about it sometime" he says.

"No i don't. I don't want to. And don't fucking say you 'understand' cause you don't! You don't know how it feels!" i say tears brimming in my eyes. Fuck this shit.

There is a long silence between us. I stare at the wall. Blinking away the tears.

"Do you believe in god?" I ask my therapist.

"Yes" he says almost immediately. He must be really sure.

"Well i don't, why would there be a man that has power over everything and everyone. It's ridiculous, really. Why would it be a man, why can't it be a women. That is not really fair, is it? Why would there be anyone who could choose about people their lifes? It just a stupid fairy tale and you know fairy tales are lies it's fake. You're stupid god is too."

My therapist stares at me.

"Well, in what do you believe?" He asks.

"I believe in death. It's the only promise that is given. Everyone dies, why would it matter when you die, your going to either way"

He is writing again. I just wait for him, when he is done, i speak again.

"Do you believe in fate?" I ask him.

"Yes, do you?"

"I do, fate plans your life. Every thing that happens is decided for you. So if i end up killing myself, it must be my fate."

My therapist looks at me. He is probably angry at himself for saying he believes in fate. He knows i won this argument.

He looks at his watch. "Time is up" he says.

-

I open the frontdoor and walk in.
"Ah ashton honey" I close my eyes from disgust. Honey. I hate how she continues to call me that after all the times i said she has to stop. "Why won't we go do something fun, as a family Tomorrow?" She asks.

I stare at her. "I have school tomorrow" i try.

"Honey" i cringe at the words. "Tomorrow is Saturday"

"So that's settled then" my dads smiles.

I give my best smile back. Alright maybe not my best one, but the best one i have now. Let me tell you, it's not a good one.

I hate going out with them, they act like i'm a baby. We will end up going to a zoo and although the zoo is not so bad. It's for kids! They always make me eat the kids menu and stuff i hate it.

"Oh and ashton, we are going to get your new medication tomorrow" My dad says.

I blink. Did he say new medication?

"What?"

"Your new medication" he repeats. "Oh, you didn't know?" He asks when he sees my confused face. "Well uhm. You don't take your medication and it's getting bad again you know, maybe even worse then it was before. You didn't have any medication for your panick attacks and those for your depression didn't seem to work there are other pills though. I don't remember what for but you will see when they are here" he gives me a small smile.

I don't give him a smile back.

I was fine all these days without medication. I even stood up to Luke. I haven't had a panick attack in weeks.

I stomp up the stairs. Jump on my bed and cry. Breathing suddenly becomes very hard. Come on not now! I haven't had one in weeks!