She'd Be Lying

Home-Ward

*Eliza's POV*

I looked at the clock that sat above the desk, nervously.

It's only been a mere 15 minutes, great.

"How did that make you feel, Elizabeth?" The therapist named Betty, but spelt it Bette, asked me.

I sighed and looked down at my hands, a nervous habit of mine.

My parents decided that it would be best if I talk to someone about what happened and what I saw.

"Um, I- I don't really know what to say. Sad? No, I don't know." I sighed again.

I don't really know what to say anymore, how do I respond to that?

I saw my baby sister jump off of the roof of our summer home. That place will never be the same again.

Good thing we're home.

"Elizabeth-"

"Eliza. My name is Eliza." I interrupted.

God, I hated Elizabeth.

Bette sighed and made note to call me Eliza.

"I know this must've been hard for you. I don't know what I would've done if I saw my younger sister jump almost to her death."

I sighed and started to bounce my leg.

"You're incredibly strong, though. I really respect you for your resilience."

I shook my head. I really wanted her to stop talking about it.

I wanted everyone to stop talking about it.

I didn't want to think about it anymore.

Bette tried to speak again.

"Can you just stop?! I'm sick and tired of having to talk about it! To think about it! What do you think I feel?! I almost lost my sister, my best friend! I don't want to talk about it yet! She's not even home! I don't get to see her too often! Can we just.. stop?" I exploded.

Bette sighed and nodded. "Can I suggest you just taking your time? Come back when you're ready to talk."

---

At the ward, *Peggy's POV*

It's been three days since I was sent to the mental ward.

Things here were so.. bland, so plain.

Small rooms, with one window, white walls, very little posters around.

I sighed as I sat on my bed, waiting for my medicine.

My day typically consisted of

        -waking up, 7am.
        -medicine, 7:15.
         -therapy, 7:30.
          -group activity, 8-8:30.
           -free hour, 8:30-9:30.
            -therapy, again, 9:45.

Lunch came shortly after. And the schedule basically repeated itself.

Over, and over, and over again.

I hated it.

We hate it.

She's still there.

I've yet to talk about her, or let her out.

Does Alexander miss me?