take care. {m.f}

3.

*Markelle And Tzipora In MM

"I haven't been able to participate in any sexual activity since, no intercourse, foreplay, it just doesn't feel comfortable anymore..." I sat on the plump, dark green couch in the therapist's room.

"Mhm. Have you Dated since then?" The woman asked. "...No."

"Tell me Why." She said as she jotted down her notes.

"I just don't trust anyone. I feel like every guy is out for something, never the right thing..." I hold back tears.

"Is this only because of what your boyfriend did to you or does it also include the fear of losing a guy, like your mother lost your father?" She asked, looking back up at me.

"...I-I-I...Don't Know." The memories started to come back.

I gasped, burying my face into my hands. Grabbing my chest, feeling that same feeling...

It was like the pierce of a sharp sword. "Are you okay?" The therapist asked. I gasped for words but I was breathless.

I saw constant flashes of the blood, I heard the deafening sounds of gunshots going off.

•

I woke up in the hospital. Apparently, I had passed out.

I was allowed to go home the next day, they had me on suicide watch.

They for sure didn't have to worry about me harming myself, but I understood the caution.

How can you trust someone who is so traumatized, not to harm herself?

•

"What helps you keep your disorder under control?" The therapist asked.

"My medicine....My Job..."

"Oh really? What do you do?" She smiled, she actually seemed interested, unlike most people placed in my life to 'help' me.

"I'm an Athletic Trainer. It's really fun when the rookies come in. They're always so energetic, and proud to be where they are. It's like they're role models. I wish I could feel the same as them at times..."

"That's cool." She smiled.

"Yea... I actually have to go there in the morning." I finally smiled.

"So what sport?" She asked.

"Basketball."

"Nice..." she jotted down some things.

"It seems like you're good to go for today Miss Parsons. Just make sure you take your medicine tonight for bed and once you wake up." She smiled, wrapping things up.

"Okay thanks Mrs. Green. See you next week." I hugged her.

She had been my therapist since I was fifteen, so she grew to be a supporting figure in my life, almost motherly.

•

I threw on some comfortable, sporty clothes to work in.

I quickly grabbed my trainer ID.

Name: Tzipora Parsons