A week after I stayed home for the first time, 9am on a Monday morning, my new therapist was sitting on my bed. Her name was Clara and she was one of the conditions for me to stay home.
"When's the last time you left the house?" she asked. She had big eyes and hair that had a life of its own. She dressed like someone who felt disgusted by everything that reminded her of sex. Like someone who'd get angry when their children said "frick".
"The Friday before the last one." I was sitting on top of my sheets wearing a pair of black shorts that didn't leave much to the imagination. The idea to take advantage of that, of her innocence, crossed my mind. But where would that get me? The next day, my parents would have another therapist ready.
"Have you been to the backyard?"
I scrunched up my nose. "Why would I go to the backyard?"
"For fresh air. It's not healthy to get so little oxygen and sunlight."
I snorted. The sun hadn't gotten past the clouds in weeks. "I sit with my legs outside the window sometimes."
"Good", she said. She looked at said window, probably wondering how high it was. Did she think I was suicidal now? Or did I only think she thought that because I thought about jumping so much? Maybe she wouldn't make the connection.
A silence followed. "Good", she repeated after a while. The thoughtful frown didn't leave her face. "And what about your friends?"
"What about them?"
"Have they contacted you?"
I pulled on a loose string of my sweater. "One of them has."
"And did you reply?"
"No." I thought about Noel, the obvious worry he expressed in the texts he had sent this week. Almost begging me to reply.
"Why not?"
"I don't want to know anyone anymore." It was the realest thing I had told her so far.
"Hm." She thought about it for a moment. "I think you should have at least one friend. It's okay for people to worry about you. That doesn't mean you're a burden - it means they care about you."
Why wouldn't it mean both? I thought, but all I said was: "Okay."
"So maybe you should contact him again?" Her eyes made her look batshit insane.
"Okay."
I wondered if she knew I was planning to never talk to him again.
[A/N]New cover! I'm not sure yet if I like it but I'm gonna leave it up because at least it's more original than the last one lol
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Never Been Better [boyxboy]
Short StoryOn the 24th of October, Caspar would never leave his house again.