Hidden Beneath the Scars [Completed]

Chapter 42

I woke up the next morning, with no memory of what happened. The last thing that I remembered was taking a drink from Jeremy.

"You okay?" My brother asked entering my room.

"No!" I whined.

"Hey this looks cool. Where'd you get it from?" He asked putting the filthy looking drink on the nightstand, and  taking the metal box.

"Thats mine." I said grabbing it from him too fast.
"Fuck." I said holding my head.

"Eugh. That bad?" He asked with a pitiful expression.

"I hate myself. Why'd I get so drunk?" I asked. And then I ran to the bathroom and vomited.
Steven went down to get me aspirin, I popped a Demerol and drank Steven's special sober drink. I was so glad dad was away at the conference or whatever.

I stayed in, the whole weekend. And repeated it the week that followed. Except for school and my friday session with Dr.Cranfield. we had scheduled sessions for Friday and Monday evening, on the condition that I go to church group sessions every sunday.

Sunday morning, I went and joined the group. I refused to say anything more than my name. There were different people going there for different reasons.

"Morning cupcake." Dad was home when I walked downstairs to get to school.

"Daddy, you're back" i said hugging him.

"Breakfast?" He asked.

"No I'm gonna be late." I said kissing him on the cheek.

"What are you doing?" He asked watching me take the key to the Mercedes.

"Going to school." I said ignoring his real question. From the corner of my eyes, i saw Steven shaking his head. I got in the car and took a Demerol before starting it up. I knew I couldn't drive as long as I was sober. I pulled open the glovebox and took my water bottle, that was filled with bourbon instead. I swallowed the pill with a sip and but both of them back in the glove box. When I stopped being so scared, i knew the pills had started its effect. I pulled out of the garage and headed towards school.

"Isabelle? Isabelle?" I was standing next to Dr.Cranfields window. The meds had already worn off. I had the sanity to not take another pill before going to see him. He would have known. Especially as i wasn't taking any Anti-depressants any longer.

"Yeah." I looked back at him.

"Are you alright? You seem removed." He said. He knew it was more than that. But it was protocol to ask me,to make me tell how i felt.

"Yeah. Just tired." I said taking a seat.

"Are you sure? We could talk about how you feel." He said.

"Isn't that all we do?" I asked.

"Yes. Because it will help you heal, Isabelle."

"No. Because my father pays you a shit ton of money to listen to me whine."

"How do you feel about that?"

"I feel like I'm done whining."

"Why do you keep saying 'whining'? Talking about how you feel isn't whining."

"Why don't you try it? I'll ask you how you feel about whatever it is you say."

"Isabelle, thats not all it is." He said patiently.

"Yes it is. You sit there with a pen and a yellow pad and keep asking me how i feel. Whatever i say, you ask me how i feel about it. And you expect me to magically just be fine. Well guess what? I'm not gonna be fine." I said, calmly.