death || rsl

20

I don't know how much time our way back home took. I completely lost track of time. There was no day or night for me. Getting out of bed was almost impossible sometimes. In my dreams, Ross was there. I just wanted to sleep. Speaking was something I was just not prepared for. I've seen the questions and concern in Leif's eyes on our flight home, but I didn't talk to him. I didn't want to face him knowing that he kind of knew about my problems, even though I didn't really know what kind of problems I had.

He thinks I'm insane, but that's not my problem. My problem was that I loved someone I couldn't have. I've seen souls wander through Earth, lost and confused, and I've been attacked by one of them who had intentions of killing me. I was the only person who remembered that Ross Lynch was at our school. But if I ever even brought that up again, people would think I have totally lost my mind. So, yes, I've had a problem, but not a psychiatric problem. A supernatural.

A knock on my door scared me and I turned my head to look at my closed door, knowing it was my mom. How do I explain that I was hurt so deeply that I wasn't sure if I'd ever heal? There was something missing in my life, something I've never known.

"Come in." My voice sounded raspy due to not using it for a long time.

My mom slowly opened the door. "Won't you go to school tomorrow?" She asked with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

I forgot what day it was today, but I knew that I wasn't prepared to face going to school. I wasn't prepared to face Leif, Miranda or Wyatt. I needed to stay in my room and find the strength to keep living. I shook my head and the smile on my mom's face was replaced by a frown.

"Sweetie, you've missed a whole week of school now. I've let you stay here, hoping that you'd get over the trauma you've gone through. But now I'm worried you won't get out of here. I've been looking up your symptoms on the internet and all of them are post traumatic stress disorder signs. You have terrible nightmares and you scream while you're dreaming, screaming for Ross, Sank or Crank... I don't know, I don't understand what you say because of your crying. You don't get out of your room and decline every phone call or visit. Whenever I try to talk to you, you seem like you're hiding. You're not listening to me."

I just remained sat on my bed, listening to her. I was suffering because I had my heart broken, but I wasn't willing to tell her that. I just stayed silent.

"I've been making some calls and I got you an appointment with a psychiatrist. I need you to go and talk to her. She's really good and works exclusively with teenagers. She's a professional and you don't have to tell anyone you're seeing her." I noticed some tears rolling down my mom's cheeks, but she quickly got rid of them.

"I... I really should've sent you with a psychiatrist years ago. When you were younger you always talked about people on the walls. I thought it was your imagination, but now I wonder if, somehow, you have some kind of illness and this trauma you've experienced has caused something." She sniffled. "You talk to yourself at night. I hear you talking with someone. Sweetie, you need help."

I just nodded. I knew it would help her calm down her fear. She worried a lot about me and I couldn't explain anything without her thinking I've gone mad.

She smiled through her tears and nodded her head. "Alright, fine. I'm going to give you some time, but you gotta get up and take a shower. Get yourself dressed and we'll go to see doctor Linda Smith. She's waiting for us."