I'm Fine

8th August, 2017

I've seen the photos. It was a blood bath. She didn't deserve it.

Humans are strange. I have difficulty comprehending it. They value some things more than family, love, and happiness. They think that with power comes happiness.

They are so wrong.

We had the power. We had the strength. We had friendship. But is anything ever enough?

I am scarred — inside and out. What happened to my best friends and boyfriend, I was going to seek revenge for that. Maybe when I am older.

Maybe when I am better than I am now.

There is a knock on the door and I look up to see my doctor, Renée Dundee. She smiles once before she let herself in and closed the door behind her.

"Morning, Ronnie." She takes her usual seat at my study desk chair. "How are you feeling?"

As usual, I don't reply. Traumatized, they called it. Selective mutism.

Mentally unstable.

I have been called a lot of names in the past few months, but I sat through them. It's not as if they were exactly insulting or hurting. I've been hurt enough to know what a deep stab is and what a tiny prick is.

"Have you been writing in your journal?" She noticed the book on my lap and raises her eyebrows. I give her a small nod to acknowledge her question, yet, I tighten my hold on the small rectangle. "You don't want to share it today?"

I grab my pencil, open my journal, rip out a small piece and write quickly, before I give her the note. She reads it and her lips form into a thin line for a split second before it turns into her fake smile again.

"But Ronnie, you need this therapy, and it must be regular. We can't skip days like this." Her answer makes me glare at her hard. Knowing I won't budge, she gives up. "Oh, alright. But I expect some cooperation on our next session. Have a good day, Ronnie. See you next Tuesday." She stands up and pauses at my door. "And Ronnie? We only want you to get better."

I'm fine.