The following content contains triggering content such as self harming. Viewer discretion is advised.
/ Audrey Tan hasn't got everything. Everyone else did. At 16, she's disfigured after an incident in school. Now, she has to try her best to cope w...
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Today my therapist will see me again.
I am not excited. There is dread hanging off every thread of my body when I woke up this morning, my body slick with sweat from the night before – Nightmares. They haunt me every day, but this was the worst so far.
I keep replaying the scene in my mind. I let it play over and over until everything becomes blurry and stuffed. I realized that I'm crying, the tears leaking out of my eyes like a broken faucet. They sink into my bandages, which are now stained grey with tears. My mouth is dry, a tacky feeling at the top of my tongue, and my lips are dry, chapped when I run my tongue over it.
I turn my head, my neck aching with every micro movement, and I reach my hands on to grab the glass of water, sitting almost solemnly on the table.
I arch my back, lifting myself off from the bed, and resting my head against the bed rest. My body is still groggy from sleep, and as I sipped the cold, stale water, the nightmare is beginning to fade away.
I don't remember what I dream of – Only the terror remains.
I watch the sunlight draw a path into my room, the air conditioner constant whirring in the background, and the air freshener that sprays every 15 minutes. A soft noise that jerks me away from my quiet thoughts.
The roses by my bedside are still alive.
After yesterday's therapy with Jesse, I asked for a bottle of bleach, or something that was poisonous, like hydrogen peroxide.She looked at me with this weird look in her eyes, almost crazed. The words don't register in my brain until she brought it up.
"For what?" She asked, a shocked look plastered onto her face. Today she wears her brunette hair in a high ponytail, her brunette hair highlighted with hints of blond strands I didn't notice last time. The sunlight cast her in a orangey yellow light, her hair lights up as if it was caught on flames.
"What?" I replied, sighing when I realized she didn't get it. "The roses."
"Roses?" She questioned, confusion covering her features. I let her words waver in the air, sink and float in the silence of the room, before I answer.
"My school sent me roses," I said, pursing my lips, swallowing. "I hate it. I hate roses, I just need something to kill it, so it'll wilt faster."
Jesse stayed silent, for half a minute, the silence hanging in the air by a thread. She opened her mouth a couple of times, trying to get the words out, but then she closed it, furrowed her brows and said:
"You know, maybe you could just ask the nurse to take it out for you?"
I didn't want to tell her.
I stayed silent, and she stood there for a while, seemingly understanding what the silence meant so she turned back and exited my room. The creaking of the door hinges loud in my ears, then the door shuts and I am left alone again.
