Rumor Has It

Chapter 44: Ending

"I heard she's crazy"

"I heard she's dead"

"I heard she killed herself"

"I heard she couldn't even get that right"

Rumors are all I hear. Someone hears something and passes it on. They'll never stop.

I set down my notebook. My therapist have me one of these. She said its best to voice and write down my feelings.

That's was one of my first entries. I've written so many. All I can think about is all the rumors that people are spreading.

They all must think I'm insane. I'm not insane. I simply have a lot going on.

But they don't get that. No one does or will.

These past few weeks I've been with my therapist. New years came and went and its already January 10th.

It's Caylas birthday and we're meeting up. I can go around in a wheel chair now. Which is good.

My physical therapist said that I'll be moving on to walking soon. I'm excited.

As for school, well I've been taking all my classes online. At least for the rest of my junior year. I don't know what will happen next year.

Before I get ready I have a session with Samantha.

Right on time she walks in.

"Good morning Alison"

"Hi Samantha, how are you?"

"I'm swell" she takes her usual seat and I sit myself up.

"So Alison, talk to me"

"Well I've been journaling. I think it really helps. You know what I mean?"

She nods.

"Its like I can just pin point exactly what I feel. But only when it's on paper. I don't know, it sounds crazy."

"It doesn't. Its actually the opposite. But how does your writing come into play, with your feelings for Nathan?"

"Um actually" I look down and twiddle my thumbs. "I've never written about him"

"Really?" She looks surprised.

"Nope. Usually I just... Well I just..."

"Go on"

"I just talk to him." I sit back.

"You talk to him?"

"Yes, alright!" I throw my hands up in defeat. "I'm so crazy that I talk to a dead person. And in my mind I hear him answer. Its how I get through it all. I just miss him so much. And I want to have him back. So I talk to him! I feel slightly insane. But I don't even care. Because to me, he's there. It feels as if he'd sitting in the room next to me. But not really. When I reach my hand out his doesnt find mine. And when all I really need is his embrace. So I know that he's not really there. And sometimes I trick myself and then when I realize what is going on, I just cry. Rocking back and forth. Holding myself. Nights lime those, I just want to stop. I just want to stop talking to him. It might make it all better. But if I do, will he still be there? Will he still watch over me? I'm too much of a coward to find out" That last sentence was chocked out as the tears came.