Crash and Burn

Chapter 5

I'm not sure when, but I fell asleep on the car ride to Patrick's house. We had agreed that he would drive to his house, wake me up, and the  I drive back to my house. Patrick woke me up before he got out of the truck.

"You going to be okay?" He seemed genuinely concerned. 

"Yeah, I'll be fine," I said, hoping he couldn't see right through me like everybody else who knew me could. 

"Funny, I don't believe that. Is your mom or somebody at your house?" Ouch. Un-trusting much.

"Patrick, I am seventeen years old. I can handle myself, and if I say I will be fine, I mean that I will be fine," I couldn't hold back on the snappiness in my voice. I looked down. "I'm sorry, I'm just really tired."

"I get it. But please, don't do anything you'll regret." And then he flashed that signature Patrick smile and walked away. And that was when I noticed; not "don't do anything stupid" or "don't do anything you'll regret," but he said, "don't do anything you'll regret." Maybe not as much ouch as I had originally thought.

When I got home that night, my mother came rushing into the living room where I had just plopped down on the couch. "Missy, honey, why does it look like you were crying?"

"Because I was mom." I always tried​ to avoid these talks. Mental health and well being and happiness. "I'm okay," I said with my most convincing smile. But like I said earlier, most of the people that knew me could see right through me.

"Okay honey. But we're going to the doctor's for a checkup. I don't trust that smile," she said sternly. By doctor's she meant the mental institution. And by checkup, she meant a two week observation plan yet again. I had been going to those since I was fifteen, when the crash happened. Except they kept me there way longer in the beginning. And either way, I had to go again.