'Unwell' || m.c. {a.u.}

Chapter Three - It's Like A Bad Day That Never Ends

"Are you alright?" my dad asked as we walked into the courtroom.

"Yeah." I lied.

I had anxiety. Serious anxiety. My chest felt tight and I couldn't breathe. I felt sick but at the same time I didn't. It was like everything was okay but wasn't at the same time. I felt dizzy and sick and lightheaded and annoyed with everything and everyone and I didn't know exactly what it was but I did. I definitely did. It was anxiety. I would've told my dad if I thought he would understand but I knew he wouldn't so I didn't. My dad could always keep his chill. Even in a situation like this. In divorce court. I sat in the little audience place while my mother and father sat in the plaintiff and defendant boxes. My dad was the plaintiff. He had filed for divorce. I wasn't surprised. My mother was no good and I knew that.

"It says here that you filed for divorce because your wife has been unfaithful and is addicted to methamphetamines." The judge read out.

"Yes, sir." my dad answered.

"After reviewing your case, you have been awarded full custody of your daughter and Katherine, you are sentence to three months in rehabilitation." the judge banged his gavel and I jumped.

I felt arms around me, "What are you doing here?"

Michael. Why was Michael here? I had told him about my parents' issues once and that was all, once so why was he here?

"Your dad came berly after you left." he said smiling shyly. "Said you might want some moral support."

"Dad!" I shouted as he cheered from the plaintiff side of court.

He was moving from the stand and coming back where I was sitting.

"Aren't you happy, sweetie? You can come home now." he said throwigan angry look to Michael.

"How did you know where I was staying?" I said biting my lip.

"Uh, I -"

"Dad, did you follow me?" I asked angrily frowning.

"I was worried-"

"Why can't you trust me? This is why I wanted to stay with Michael and not you. He offered me a place to stay and he understands! You don't even care that I have a mental problem. It's all about you and mum and your issues." I yelled.

Everyone in the courtroom was looking at us now. I was breathing hard and I hadn't realized it but my entire life was coming down to this one day and it just got worse and worse. A hurt look crossed my dad's face. He backed away from me a bit.

"So you don't want to come live with me?" He asked quietly.

The judge looked up, "What was that?"

"I want my freedom." I said almost at a mumble.

"What, young lady?" the judge asked snapping at me.

-Go on. Since you're so tough, speak up.

--No. This isn't a good idea. You're both unstable and no, this is bad.

-Say it. Say it! What do you want to be free from? You live with a boy who's older than you and mental. Is that the kind of freedom you want?

If it means having the chance to maybe be where I could be understood then yes. It is what I want. I may not know him that well or trust him but at least, I know that he understands me in his own personal way. Not even you can give me that and you are me.

"Are you whispering to yourself?" The judge asked in disbelief. "Is she whispering to herself?"

"I want to be free!" I yelled louder than I intended.