"You're going to have to talk."
Arin shook his head, feeling much like a little kid at how much he didn't want to talk.
"At least tell me why you signed up for therapy."
Arin didn't even show he heard the woman.
The therapist remained silent, waiting for an answer.
I signed up because I know I need to move on.
She shook her head, her annoying pencil scratching away on her clip board. "You don't need to move on, you just need to accept."
Arin breathed deeply. I want to start talking again.
"Really?" Her eyes lit up, she was excited for what looked to be progress. "Do you want to start working on speech?"
Arin paused before nodding.
•
It was a while later and Arin walked to his house, passing the neighboring high school into his apartment.
He passed the empty bedroom into his own. He fell onto his bed and just laid there, relaxing. Suddenly a boom of a firework from the school filled the air and Arin was thrown into the past.
Arin hid behind a bookshelf, a big grin on his face from the suppressed giggles.
He moved a old book over and spied on his parents as they walked around for the books they were looking for.
He saw them disappear behind a shelf and Arin stood normally from his hunched over position. He walked into the kid's section, despite being a teenager. He just always liked the colorfulness of it all.
He spotted a book shoved roughly under a shelf and picked it up. He looked at the cover and went over and put it in the right spot.
Suddenly, the air was filled with an explosion like sound.
Arin spun around, looking for the source as his ears rang.
Another sound cut through and Arin realized what it was, it was a gun shot. What that was going in a library, Arin didn't know.
Arin hid behind a shelf once again and peered through the cracks of the books. There was a group of scared kids- there for a story time thing- with a tall man with a mask standing over them.
Arin was back to the present as another firework went off.
He sat up from his bed, his breathing feeling all too fast and not enough at the same time. He grabbed a pillow and clutched it close to his chest, trying to regain control of his breathing.
Another firework went off and Arin's previous progress of breathing was thrown away, him going back into a full panic.
He clutched his pillow tighter. Its okay, I'm not there, those are just fireworks
Arin felt very alone. He crawled over to his bedside table and grabbed his phone. He went to his therapist's number and tapped FaceTime.
