Recovery

1. Shitty Friends

Walking into this place was agony to me. I disliked it so very much. Ever since my stupid suicide attempt, I've been coming here. I would've preferred for the suicide to have been sucessfull instead of just an attempt. My mother and the doctors forced me to get some help, so here I am, once again, at my weekly therapy session.

I slid my glasses off my face and cleaned them with the end of my sweater, as I walked down the long hallway. I reached the door to where I must enter and slid the glasses back on. My therapist, Lacey, was seated at her desk as usual. As she saw me approaching the seat in front of her desk, she shot me a warm smile.

"How are you today, Cassie?" She stood up from her desk and sat on the chair beside me.

"Can you not pretend to be so interested in my life so we can get this stupid session over with?" Yes, I was a bitch and I will gladly admit it. People tend to 'care' about you more when you're mentally disabled. I didn't need anyones sympathy.

She faked a smiled and took out her notepad. I hated that notepad. It had all my darkest secret. The ones I told her when I was that stupid, weak, fragile, little girl. As you can see, I've been coming here for a very long time, since I was 14. I stopped seeing her for a couple months, but than I lost the most important person in my life and I got sent right back to her.

"Have you visited your sister?" Lacey asked. I shook my head. My sister, Sarah was a sensitive subject. You want to know why, I bet. Okay, here I go.

When I was 14, 4 years ago, we got into a really bad accident. A drunk driver was driving behind us and he ended up colliding into the car. That being done made us crash into the car in front of us as well. My sister's car was smushed together. I remember barely being able to open my eyes. We were carried off to the hospital and I ended up having a broken leg and a concussion. Sarah, however, was in critical condition. Since her side of the car got damaged more, that meant more damage was done to her. She was in a coma for 2 weeks. Those 2 weeks, I stayed beside her hospital bed praying every night that she'd wake up. I fell asleep in the chair one day and I was awoken by the constant beep of something. As I rubbed my eyes sleepily, I saw nurses and doctors running into the room. That's when I figured out what the beeping was. My sister had flat lined. One of the nurses carried me out as I kicked and screamed for Sarah to not leave me alone. My pleads did nothing because she was gone. Minutes later, my mom and dad ran through the hospital doors sobbing. I ran into my mothers arms, hugging her tight not wanting to ever let go. After Sarah's funeral, I never visited her tombstone again. I dont know why, I just didn't.

"Maybe you should," she suggested.

I shook my head again. "Don't tell me what I should and shouldn't do."

"Cassie, is something wrong?"

"No, why?" Lies. Something was wrong, but I'd rather I kept it a secret instead of giving her something else to write in her damn ass journal of me.

"You're more . . . moody today," she said.

I shrugged my shoulders, "So?"

"So? Cassie, you have to tell me these things. That's what I'm here for, to help you."

I looked down at my worn out, dirty, white shoes. "School's the same," I murmured.

"Those kids haven't stopped picking on you?" She sounded shocked.

"No. They won't leave me alone and it's driving me insane."

"If they haven't stopped, maybe it's time to go to the principal."

I scoffed, "Yeah, cause that'll help. All that's gonna cause is me to get the nickname 'snitch.'"

"Would you rather be called a snitch or stay the underdog and keep letting them say what they want to you?" Lacey said.