Hollows In Time (✔️) | 'Hollows' Book Ⅱ

Chapter Six

^ our babyface Sky (and there's a video if you swipe > 💃🏼) ^
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H o l l o w s   I n
T    I    M    E
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27/08/16
Twelve months and two weeks ago

After that, I became a prisoner in a life I couldn't even recognise. I had a therapist; my parents thought I was dealing with post traumatic stress—it could've been that, or it could've been the fact that my best friend died at the hands of the man I loved, and then that life was stripped away from me. I was bare and alone, the cold winds of a warm September chipping away at my iron resolve.

I hadn't been allowed to go back to school yet—my parents and therapist had discussed this matter and came to the conclusion that the right thing to do was to let me have my time to heal before I was thrown back into a social situation.

Alexi was always at our house, she got here before and after school and lurked in the corners of every room I went into. She even made the effort to get up early on the weekend mornings, just sitting in my room as I awoke.

It was Monday, four days after my birthday, and after the death of a part of me I had kept so close, without knowing it'd be torn away so quickly. Lexi had made me breakfast. I wasn't hungry. Lexi sighed and started picking at my bacon, eating my meal. I watched her, then realised there were only three slices of bacon left. I swatted her hand away and she frowned at me, a curious glint in her widened eyes. I sighed and picked up my cutlery, digging into my meal—I have a therapy session to get to.

Lexi grinned at me, and then, twenty minutes later, off she was to school, which, I thought, was much better than therapy.

During the drive to the shrinks lair, I didn't speak a word, like I hadn't the other three times we'd driven there. My parents took turns in driving me there, and I stared out the window as my mother sat in the drivers seat, her finger tapping the wheel as she drove.

Then we reached the car park. Getting out of the car, I really considered making a run for it, but I knew I'd never get far at all. I dragged my feet to the entrance, watching my mother get back into her car and speed off.

I regretfully trekked over to my therapists room and pushed the door open without a knock; he knew I hated him anyway. Yes, a he. And surprisingly enough, my parents allowed him to council me despite his gender. I really had no issue with it, although the youngest therapist I've seen—maybe even fresh out of university or something—he wasn't really my type.

"Sky," He addressed me, taking a seat on his office chair and offering me the couch. I sat upon the leather dressed sofa, placing my left hand over my right on my lap.

"How are you feeling?" He asked me first, pulling out his notepad and pen from the table beside him. There was nothing but distance between us.

"You ask me that every session." Was what I responded with, watching him flash me an amused smile.

"So can you remember what you told me last session?" He raised his eyebrows at me and I frowned.

"No." I told him; why did I need to remember what I said? Surely he was the one that needed to remember what I said.

"Then tell me, how do you feel today?" He had caught me out. The persistent bugger. The question could be answered with a word, or with a whole essay, yet I felt like I wouldn't be completely satisfied with either answer.