FAKE

PART V: REVELATION

II: emotional

My doctors tell me that the experience wasn't good for my health. My emotions are all of over the place since the incident. When I was rescued from the fire, and the explosion, I didn't feel anything. My emotions were pretty messed up after the incident though, it was torture. Right now, I still don't even know my emotions or how to handle the people asking me how I feel. You can't ever really understand how I feel because you haven't experienced this. There's still no words do describe losing someone you are friends with. It's the worst feeling in the fucking world. I feel so lonely and afraid all the time. I'm constantly afraid about Evelyn. How close I could have been to dying. How she, a seemingly perfect friend, was capable of murder. I took all my emotions and put them in the book I am finishing up. There is much left to the book but the main shocking points are all done. I have decided to take this experience and turn it into a creative idea. The murders in my story are simply metaphorical instances where the main character fights with one of them and cuts ties. The murders never happened in the book or real life. The murders were just a representation of the anger, of loneliness I felt, as well as the main character, while both of us were going through the crisis of losing all your friends. I wrote most of the deaths a few days after I split with the person I was talking about. It was my way of letting everything out. I would never write those gruesome scenes nowadays. Especially Jason's, it hurt so much to even read that I ended up deleting it in it's entirety and making Jason live because he helps Jane move on at the end of the book. My book ends at a happy note because there's always hope. No matter what you are are going through or feel, there's always that light of hope at the end of the tunnel telling you that everything will be ok. I fortunately ended up going to Mrs. Hall's office now again. I go twice a week and tell her everything I'm feeling. She knows the full story of what happened and she was shocked. She cried when I told her. We both hugged each other and sat there crying the first day I told her everything. Now, it seems to be getting better at least. I cry less and I have control over my emotions. When I would tell her anything before, it would just be sometimes ramble and I felt so conflicted. I felt angry, sad, grateful, destroyed, confused, and completely scared. It felt as though I had been locked up in a tiny room and couldn't escape. Today is my another appointment with Mrs. Hall and I get into my dad's Ford truck since I'm not suitable to drive yet. PTSD they say. They fear that I will get so scared, that I could get into an accident again. It's silly but whatever, I kind of like not driving because it was traumatizing but if I had to drive, I would. I think it was my parents who didn't want me to drive, not because they didn't trust in me but because they're worried about my anxiety. I'm currently taking medications too for my anxiety and I was on antidepressants to help lighten up the sadness but they didn't help. I eventually stopped taking them and was better off healing naturally. My dad stops at Mrs. Hall's office and he lets me out of the car.

"Good luck sweetie," he says, then telling me that he'll pick me up in a few seconds. I walk up to the office door and knock. Theresa opens the door and greets me inside. She asks me how I've been holding up and I answer, happily, that I'm doing well but I'm confused.

"What do you feel today then?" She asks, smiling.

"I've been feeling complicated lately. Conflicted. My emotions are getting better and I can control them better but I do sometimes feel nothing but utter sadness. There's nothing that helps me to get better. Not even the antidepressants aren't working for me. I need help. I think I might be going crazy but I don't want to take another pill."

"That's normal, Jane. You're not crazy. Look, I'll take away the medication and we'll see how you do from there. You'll be fine, trust me. For now you feel conflicted because you're still trying to process it. This immense pain. I know that you feel that there's no one who understands but trust me, I do. Let me tell you a story, about my husband."

I nod and I feel my hands go cold. I do truly feel like she understands me and I'm looking forward to hearing this story. It maybe help me recover. It may shed some light on how I can recover my happiness that has been stolen away from me for the past months."

"I was married to my late husband, Jonathan, and we spent much of high school together. Even then later after college we were still together and eventually in our twenties, we got married. We shared everything together and spent so much time with each other as well. One day, I was sitting in my office back in Massachusetts, this was oh so long ago, and I remember him not calling me. It was maybe ten at night and I was just getting ready to finish some paperwork for a client and I checked my inbox on my computer for any new messages from him. There was nothing. I didn't panic at first but later, in the cold of the night, the clock stroke midnight and I then started to feel dread. I grabbed my flip phone and called him. There was no answer and it went to voicemail after several rings. I called all his relatives and all of his friends, all of them telling me, trying to reassure me that he was probably on his way coming back home from a late shift. He worked as an architect designer . Through all the reassuring from them, my fear was heightened extremely. It got to the point where I got the keys to my car and I rushed out of the house. I drove all the way, in tears, thinking of all the possible shit that could've happened to Jonathan. I rang his phone so many times but there was never an answer. I finally arrived to his work and parked in front of his work office. I saw his car in the distance, parked in a parking space. I remember walking over to his car, and when I saw what I saw, I broke down." Mrs. Hall paused for a second and a tear slid down her cheek.

"I couldn't see in the darkness if he was asleep or not but when I approached further until I could look into the car through the video. There was a bottle of pills, empty, in his hand. His hand was resting on the passenger seat and he was slumped in his chair. All I remember was calling 9-1-1 and passing out. It took months, no years to recover again and find someone new. Jonathan will always have a special place in my heart though. I will never understand why he killed himself but maybe he had depression beyond repair. Who knows? That's why I like helping people so much. I want to help everyone in the entire world and sometimes I can't. I know have Steven, who's supported me through everything, but nothing will ever compare to Jonathan. I hope you understand."

Streams of tears fell down her eyes and onto her shirt. I reached over and hugged her, tightly. I knew her pain even though Jason didn't kill himself. I, on a personal level, understood the pain of simply losing someone. At that moment I realized that Mrs. Hall was just a normal person like all of us and that she had losses. We all have losses that deeply affect us. We move on from the sadness but never forget our love for them. Jason will always be in my heart.