"Kyle why are you here?"
He looked up from his hands, confused as to how she knew his name.
"Before you ask, let's just say I've heard a lot about you." She chuckled, motioning for him or sit.
It had been almost a month since he left. And in that time he had gotten a job as an art teacher at a private school along with the ceramic studio, and sobered up. In fact he hasn't even thought of drinking.
"Please tell me why you booked this appointment under a different name."
Kyle sat up, nervously chuckling.
"I didn't think you would see me."
The therapist stood up, and grabbed a water bottle. She then grabbed her worn journal where she took notes.
"Before we start, I just want to tell you he hasn't been to me in almost two weeks. And I want to make sure you know that I cannot and will not disclose anything he's told me."
Kyle shook his head softly. He hates feeling like the asshole that he was. And through some investigating he found the therapist that Dan used. Dan had talked about her on several occasions, explaining how she felt like more of a friend than a paid professional.
"I just, I'm so sick of myself." He started, avoiding eye contact. Kyle was starting to regret coming. She would obviously hate him after he explained what he did.
"Is there a reason? Or anything that sparked this?"
He nodded his head, taking a big gulp before talking.
"I hurt him."
She went to speak, but he interrupted.
"Physically. I hit him, hard. And the worse part was I liked it. But then in the morning when I saw his face, it was like I snapped out of it." He could feel the tears start again. Kyle never wanted to hurt him, in fact he never wanted to hurt anyone.
"Kyle, do you know why you hit him?"
"I was piss drunk, and he was acting like my dad used to." He hates that his father is still controlling his life, dead or alive he can't get away from him.
It makes him feel so weak. And it makes him fear for the future. He can't be like his father.
"Did he ever hurt you?" Her tone had softened, making Kyle relax slightly.
"Of course not, you Dan couldn't hurt..."
"You father." She clarified, watching as his facial expression changed.
"I mean yeah, but like it was my fault. You probably think I'm exaggerating but literally everything I did was wrong. It was like if I got a low grade, the next day I would walk to school with a new bruise. Or me and my friends fucked around and I was late home, that night I would earn a black eye." Kyle couldn't hold back the tears now as they fell down his cheeks. He hadn't ever really thought about how much the man had truly done to him.
She quickly comforted him, handing him a tissue to wipe his face. After Kyle had controlled himself she went on to ask how long this occurred.
He went on to explain his childhood, and then the months leading up to his death.
"I didn't just leave Daniel. I went to take care of my father, and help my mother. I could never just leave."
---
"Today we're going to be talking about empty space in a photo." Dan began, pulling up the slide show he had prepared the previous night.
In the month he had pulled himself together more than ever before. Him and Charlie had grown closer, the two inseparable.
The only problem was when him and Charlie went out. That's when all he seemed to focus on were the different couples. Around ever corner seemed to be another happy in love couple.
All he wanted was to once again have that. To have the happiness that once lived inside of him.
Dan wanted a reason to paint with pastels, to explore parts of the city he hadn't ever been in, to get early morning coffees with, and finally he wanted something to fill the glass.
When he was in love, the glass wasn't even half full. The fucking glass was full.
---
I hated that chapterAnd it's 2:00am and I'm sitting in bed listening to one direction
YOU ARE READING
compare scars
Fanfiction"compare scars of love and war, oh some are ugly and some are worth it" the story of a sad art teacher