nefelibata (n.) | ✔️

twenty-three.

Present. November 6th, 2018.

My mother had therapy today.

She claims that driving herself to therapy isn't healthy, god knows why, and my father had to work so guess who gets to drive mom?

Lenny allowed me to be a couple minutes late considering and I was very grateful for that.

It was only my mother's second session, and it didn't seem to be helping. My father tried to suggest that I take a stab at the whole therapy thing, but I gladly declined his offer, not willing to change my stance.

Sure, maybe I could use some therapy, but I'm not ready for it, and I'm happy my father understood that.

"Can you quit daydreaming? We need to go!" My mother snaps in front of me and tosses me the keys before pulling the door open.

I roll my eyes. "You can drive yourself you know!" I responded, slamming the door behind me.

As we walked to the car, my mother rambled about me being disrespectful and claiming I offer her no help. I'm driving the woman, aren't I?

"You may not believe that driving yourself to therapy is bad luck, but I do. Once you get out of therapy, you need time to reflect. You can't be driving while doing so!" She continued her rambling even though I forgot to listen after awhile.

The only good thing that was coming out of this ride was the ability to use the aux-chord. I plugged it into my phone and played my indie playlist, letting the soothing music bring a small smile to my face.

I pulled out of my driveway and followed the directions to her appointment. My father agreed to pick her up considering I had school.

My drive to school was nothing less than aggravating. I was a bit early, so the parking lot was vacant, which I enjoyed, but the early birds scowled at me as I sped into my parking spot, my beat-down car screeching at my fast turn.

I reclined my seat and threw my headphones in, hoping to get at least five minutes of shut-eye. It didn't happen though. My windows weren't exactly blackout, and my self-consciousness began to prohibit any chance of me sleeping.

I sighed and read a crappy poem blog. It was unfulfilling though because the poems were bland and the concepts were typical. I signed and hoped out my car, slamming the door and walking up the long parking lot. I saw Carson's car pull in out of the corner of my eyes, but I decided to pretend I hadn't.

He didn't want to admit it, but he had become quite 'well know' around school, and I didn't really enjoy being noticed, and when I was with him? Well, let's just say people noticed me a bit more.

Of course, I only heard negative things though, things along the lines of 'how could he hang out with that freak?' and 'I bet he doesn't know how weird she really is.' Lovely.

I dragged my feet to my locker, my black bag irritating my leg as it hit me with each step. My lack of sleep, yet another cause of my irritation, was affecting the function of my eyelids. They were dropping as we speak.

I rested my forehead on the locker door, sighing heavily before pulling it open. Why am I so fucking tried?

Probably because you don't sleep, genius.

I roll my eyes at myself and grab my books. I decided to sit against my locker before the first bell rang. I pulled my legs up to me to stay out of peoples way.

"Hey, Lena?" Carson stood above me, frowning a little.

"What?" I said, snapping a little. I didn't mean to be rude, but it kind of just slipped out. "Sorry, what's up?"