The Mask

Chapter Three

Sally felt a hand grab her as she leaped from the window.

"Sally!" Her mother cried. Sally stared at the ground below her. Oddly enough, she felt nothing. Not fear, not sadness. Just a flat line of nothing. She didn't do anything as her mother pulled her up. She didn't do anything as her mother cried and asked what was wrong with her. She just didn't do anything. There wasn't much to do, one way or another. Sally didn't realize it at first but it was the first time she didn't have on a smile or a frown. It was the first time she didn't feel pain or anger or anything at all. In a way, it was freeing. Then she felt something odd spread across her face. It was a genuine smile.

Sally had been in therapy for the whole of two minutes and she already hated it. How could anyone expect her to open up to a complete stranger? It just didn't make sense.

"Sally? Please just answer the question. What brings you here today?" The therapist asked.

"My mother's car," Sally stated simply. The therapist gave her an unamused expression.

"Sally. Please be serious about this. I love that you have a sense of humor, but now is not the time," the therapist said, her voice strained.

"I tried to jump out of my window," Sally said, this time the therapist smiled a bit.

"Thank you for being truthful. Why did you try to die? What made you think you wanted to be dead?" The therapist asked. Sally stared at the ceiling, not saying anything. "Sally, If this is how the whole session is going to go, you may as well just leave now and not waste our time," the therapist said.

"You're quite pissy for a therapist, ain't ya?" Sally said, getting up to leave. The therapist gave her an indignant look and stormed over to the door to block Sally's way.

"Oh, I don't think so. Go sit back down, young lady. If you don't want to talk now, fine. But you can't just leave," she said. Sally sighed. This was pointless. She walked back over to the plastic chair she had been sitting in and sat down.

"Look, therapy lady, why don't I make us all better and leave now before you yell and I throw something?" The therapist looked on the verge of agreeing. Of course, she couldn't. So instead they sat in uncomfortable silence for the rest of the hour. When Sally's mother came to pick her up she asked how it went.

"About as good as jumping out a window was. Useless. A waste of time,"she said. Her mother scowled at her and gripped the steering wheel of the van, staring straight ahead. Sally sighed, this was pointless. She let the blankness come onto her and she eased into her seat. Her mother's car pulled into the driveway and Sally got out. Her mother didn't say anything as she unlocked the door and went inside. Sally went straight to the kitchen. Her mother went straight to her bedroom. Sally looked at the drawer that held them.

Just one, maybe? Just one won't hurt.

She put her hand on the handle of the drawer. Just as she was about to pull it open, she paused.

Maybe not... but... just one.

She pulled open the drawer and picked up the smallest knife she could find.

"Sally I was w- Sally! What are you doing?! Put the knife down! I thought you said you wouldn't!" Her mother yelled, walking into the kitchen. Sally couldn't help it, she broke down in tears.

"You don't get it, Mom! You'll never understand!" Sally sobbed. She ran to her bedroom and locked the door before her mother could follow or say anything. She cradled the knife she still held against her chest.

No. Not one. Not one. Not one. Never... never... I'm done. . .