Chapter 18

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dedicating this chapter to NewMommy014

Miya.

Personally, I believed I didn't need therapy anymore. I know how to control myself much better now. Only sensitive subjects get me upset, but that's normal for a human being...

I dragged myself out of my dad's car. I am beyond tired; I didn't fall asleep until 5:35 AM. It's now 9:00 AM. I really wondered why my dad scheduled my appointment so early.

I trailed behind him as we walked inside the building.

"Miya... Come on." My dad tapped my shoulder, startling me. I stood up from the chair and walked towards the office.

"You okay babygirl?" My dad questioned with concern in his eyes.

"I'm fine dad." I smiled, assuring him everything was okay. "Don't worry about it."

"I know." He sighed. "Maybe this might be your last visit, you're anger has gotten so much better." He stated and he held the door open for me. I nodded and walked in the office.

"Miya. How are you?" My therapist, Mrs.Hall, greeted me. I shut the door behind me.

"I'm fine." I said as I sat down. Mrs.Hall sat across from me with a notepad and pencil in her hand.

"Your dad tells me you've been controlling your anger well." She gave me a warm smile, but I hated being in here; therefore my facial expression was not so welcoming. On top of that, I was sleepy.

"Yup." I replied, popping the p.

"Okay so..." She wrote a few notes on her notepad. "Chronic anger? Am I right?"

"You should know your the therapist." I spoke with an attitude. "But yes."

She cleared her throat and wrote some more things in her notes. "Have you seen your mother lately?" She asked. I scratched my hair and yawned.

"Mhm."

"How was it?" She quizzed. She leaned in a little waiting for me to speak.

"Nice." I sighed. "She's doing a lot better. I've actually been talking to her for advice and things in that nature."

Mrs.Hall nodded. "Advice?"

"Yeah... Advice for... A boy." I snickered as she cocked her eyebrow.

"Well okay Ms. Jackson." She said as she chuckled a little. "Anyway, how does it feel? Y'know, now that you're able to talk to her."

Sensitive topics like this get me upset. I looked down as I felt a wave of sadness come over me. I played with my fingers....

"IS THIS ALL YOU DO?" I heard my dad scream. I was in my room with the door shut, I leaned back on it holding onto my dog. "WOULD IT KILL YOU, TO AT LEAST ASK OUR DAUGHTER HOW SHE'S DOING?"

My mom's loud sobs were killing me mentally. Only being eleven years old at this time, I knew what was going on. It all made sense why she was always coming in and out, why she was always acting weird.

"I-I'M SORRY!! LE-LEROY! Please..." Her stuttering was intense.

"DONT SAY SORRY TO ME! I DON'T CARE ANYMORE! I don't care anymore..." I heard their voices come closer. I ran to my bed and laid down. Wiping my tears as I snuggled under the covers with Sherrie.

"I-I need a place to stay! Please!" I knew by this time, my dad was probably giving in to her begging, yet again.

"If you weren't the mother of my child, you would be sleeping on the streets.... Don't touch me!"

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