"From the ashes, we shall rise"
WARNING: THIS BOOK CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT , VIEWERS DISCRETION IS ADVISED
The second book of the tainted series, it can NOT be read as a stand-alone.
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After having another episode in the middle of the street, Caleb decided to finally take me back home. The taxi ride there was quiet and uncomfortable, as we sat in the back for a whole fifteen minutes.
I had no idea of what to tell him what exactly happened back there, when I don't fully know myself. All of it was confusing, based on my feelings I had no idea how to feel when it came to Caleb. Maybe I did like a little, but didn't want to ruin my friendship. Or maybe I just needed some type of male attention, craving it from someone else since the actual guy I wanted didn't wanna be around.
Unfortunately I had no way of knowing, because now we weren't exactly on speaking terms. And Erica didn't think it was a good idea for us to talk again, while Taylor wanted us to be a couple. They were nothing but a two-way street, just like my mind. But it wasn't like I could ask them for advice, this is my personal life.
This whole thing felt consuming and drastic, all I wanted to do was go home to sleep for hours at a time. When the taxi finally pulled up to my apartment building, I jumped out while leaving Caleb alone with the driver.
A guy dressed in a black penguin suit, watched me from inside as I slowly approached the door. The past year causing me to watch him from a few paces, growing worried from the harsh look on his face. He just watched me , before opening the door and staying out of the way to let me pass by; I swallowed hard as my feet carried me down the path, keeping focus on him until we were face to face.
He just briefly nodded his head at me while holding the door open, as I regarded him before walking inside. For a specific reason I couldn't put it on my finger if he's been around before or not. But it eased my mind to know that he was just a doorman, I sighed a deep breath of relief once I was alone.
Sometimes it was hard to let go of the past, it was a couple of months ago. But even if it was - I still had every right to get nervous, stalling in public and being weary of my safety around other people. My therapist believed it was a very horrific case of post traumatic stress disorder, I remember overhearing her talking to my doctor about it, and how my stories had given her nightmares. Beginning to think she was degrading my incident, I was ready to find a new one until she said that she'll do anything to help me get better.
And then I realized her words aren't being judgmental to my story, my actual story had broken her heart. The thoughts came back when I was in a session, describing how I felt about everything when she suddenly walked out of the room. I remember looking confused until it dawned on me that she was in the bathroom, sobbing at the story before returning with a bunch of tissue for the both of us. She had cancelled the rest of her sessions, giving me as much time to talk as I needed.
Once I had finished talking I remember looking up at her nervously, as she laughed and waved it off about the last two hours wouldn't be charged. Almost grateful for that I remember constantly staying thank you, and her telling me that Caleb was a family friend. How he'd ever forgive her if she charged me a lot, until she put down a pen while analyzing me. Before telling me the news about my frequent episodes, most of the time I didn't have them based on my incidents. They all had to deal with Zayn, and worrying about him and if he'd be safe out of my care.
