"Why don't you tell me how it all began" suggested Cynthia Belle, my psychiatrist. But I wasn't listening. My head is too full to be listening. I can only think of how it all began. We were all good friends. We never ever fought. Not once. And now...
"Daisy.....? Are you with me?" I snapped out of it and looked at Cynthia.
"Sorry. I just have never done this before" I said.
"That's ok. Take your time" she said a little too comfortably.
I started to think about it all again. I don't know how to turn it to words. I don't know how to tell my secrets and say what I feel. I can't. I guess that's why I'm here. But I can't necessarily keep it all to myself like this and learn. She wants something, anything. She won't let me leave until I tell her what happened. How I got here. I am trapped. I am in a cage with no one to talk to. No one who cares anyway. They just pretend they do for money. But I should say something. This is my chance to be free.
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If Only
Non-FictionIf you think you know what this feeling is, you don't. No one does. I am literally the only person alive who isn't happy with her friends. The only person who gets left out, feels left out, gets yelled at for no reason, and feels unwanted. This is m...
