Autompne

three

THREE

Eighteen days, two and a half weeks, four hundred thirty-two hours and twenty-five thousand nine hundred twenty minutes was all I had left. Twenty-eight days, four weeks, six hundred seventy-two hours and forty thousand three hundred twenty minutes if I was lucky enough to get forty days.

I was still bitter and I was still angry and I still blamed myself for everything but my mom had called the doctor and they all seemed to be symptoms—my old symptoms coming back. It still shocked me how I wasn't aware of it but then again I was never aware of everything around me. Only sometimes.

After my outburst, my mom insisted on signing me up with 'people like me' which was another term for 'ill people'. I appreciated her being careful around me and choosing her words right but I was used to it. I'd been fighting this thing for three years and I was finally dying—we all saw it coming. I wasn't looking forward to group therapy. In fact, I wasn't looking forward to any type of therapy. Letting my feelings out by talking to a stranger didn't help me but I guess my outbursts did in a way and I was always too scared to admit it.

With every passing second we were growing closer to the hospital, my anxiety started taking over. I was afraid of the people I'd see there. What if they weren't all like me? What if I turned out to be different? What if they made fun of me or tried to hurt me? It was like going to school all over again. I hated going to new places and I hated meeting new people.

I started freaking out even more when we reached the building and stepped inside. My mom waited for the nurse this time because she didn't know where group therapy was supposed to take place but I did. I knew where everything took place in this hospital. After a few minutes, the nurse showed us the way. It was on the other side of the hospital. We never had to go to that side when we came for my appointments and my MRI's. I was a little bit late and I hated being late. It meant that everyone would stare at me when I would come into the room. That alone scared me.

We made it to the room and I took in a deep breath before opening the door and heading inside. My mom wasn't allowed to go in with me, even if it was for a short amount of time. It was completely confidential that even parents weren't allowed. I was surprised when nobody turned around to look at me besides the therapist. She stood up and smiled at me.

"You must be Finn," she said as she walked over to me, putting a hand out to me but I didn't take it. I didn't shake hands with her. I just stared at her hand until she eventually caught on and spoke again, "come on, take a seat. We were just getting started." I stayed silent as I sat in the only empty seat.

"We are going to go around in a circle and introduce ourselves," The therapist said. "I will start. My name is Tiffany; I'm twenty-four years old. I graduated college with a degree in psychology."

A guy sitting right next to Tiffany spoke first, "My name is Josh, I'm fourteen years old and I'm a freshman in high school. I have heart cancer." Josh had dark hair, dark skin and hazel eyes. He looked content but I could tell he really wasn't. Nobody in the room was content to be there.

A dull looking guy spoke after him, "My name is Paul, I'm nineteen and I don't go to school." Paul had blonde hair and blue eyes.

A blonde girl with hair covering her face followed Paul but her voice was barely a whisper, "My name is Amanda, I'm sixteen and I have autism."

Another blonde girl with spoke next, "My name is Savannah and I have stomach cancer." Savannah had her hair up in a bun and wore a beautiful sunflower dress. I looked down at her hand and saw a hospital bracelet wrapped around her tiny wrist.

Next to Savannah, I could see twins and they both spoke at the same time, "We're Conner and Carver and we're both depressed." I could already tell that I would never be able to tell the difference between both of them. Not to mention the fact that they liked to wear matching clothes and speak at the same time.

The room fell into silence after the twins spoke up and about a minute or two later, everyone turned to look at me. I didn't know what to do or say and I started to feel uncomfortable by the second. Why were they all looking at me?

"Finn, introduce yourself," Tiffany said slowly, the same smile still on her face. That woman seemed too friendly.

"My name is Finn, I'm seventeen and I have schizoaffective disorder," I said.

The dull looking guy—aka Paul—'s head shot up and he suddenly seemed more interested in me than he was when I first walked in. It scared me a little because for a second I thought he was going to hurt me but he didn't; he smiled at me instead.

"I have schizoaffective disorder too," he said and I smiled at him the same way he did. Someone like me, finally. I wouldn't have to worry about looking weird in front of people and I wouldn't have to worry about making friends. I could already tell by the look we shared that we were friends. Nothing more had to be said.

"You know they say that if two people share the same illness, they get along very well," Tiffany started. "It's mostly because they can understand each other."

It made sense. Paul understood what I went through and I understood what he went through. I wasn't the weird kid anymore and for the first time ever, I didn't feel out of place.

"How do you feel right now, Finn?" Tiffany asked. Her voice was soothing and the way she spoke—it made you feel like someone was looking out for you; protecting you.

"I don't feel out of place for the first time ever," I said. When I didn't say anything more, Tiffany nodded her head gesturing for me to continue. "I feel safe here; normal. I feel like I finally fit in."

And I did.

**

I didn't wanna leave an author's note BUT I just wanted to quickly thank everyone who's reading this, voting and commenting because it all means so much to me. It's not even been a full week with this story up and I already have 100+ reads. Wow, thank you.