Addicted

Chapter One

        I can't tell whats real and whats not anymore. Its like I'm stuck in between two worlds, forever trapped in a place I'd like to call hell.  My demons have awoken inside me.  They're calling my name, beckoning me to join them.  To become them.

Chapter One:

        Your leg shakes as you sit in the wooden chair.  She stares at you, waiting for you to say something.  No words escape your mouth, you just sit there in silence.  She clears her throat and stands.  She's about average height with dirty blonde hair down to her neck.  She's slightly overweight but not excessively.  She makes her way over to her desk and pulls out a sheet of paper.

        "You like to draw, right?"  She asks you.  You shift your gaze from the floor to the white sheet of paper she had in her hand.  You nod your head.

        "Good, I'd like you to draw me a picture."  She states, sliding the piece of paper over to you.  You stare at it for a moment before looking up at her.

        "I need a pencil."  You said quietly.  The first words you had spoken all session.

        She pauses for a moment before smiling.  "Of course!  How could I forget?"  She said a little too happy.  Maybe she was just relieved you weren't staring at your feet in silence anymore like you had been for the past twenty minutes.

        She hands you the pencil and you look at the sheet of paper for what feels like an eternity.  Finally, you look up at her and say, "What do you want me to draw?"

        She sits back down in her chair, which was by far more comfortable than yours, and thinks for a moment.  "Anything.  Anything that comes to mind."

        "Well that's a little vague."  You mutter under your breath sarcastically.  

        She chuckles.  "You didn't let me finish."  She said with forced sweetness.  "Draw what comes to mind when I say the word mother."

        Your eyes widen a little as memories come flooding back.  You unconsciously caress the scar on your upper left lip.  You look back down at the sheet of paper and begin drawing.  At first it starts off as random shapes and scribbles, then you start to make something out of them.  You draw a baby, alone in a dark forest.  The trees branches are like hands reaching out to grab the infant.  You bare down on the pencil making the sky dark.

        Her eyes never leave the paper, even as you finish.  She stares at the drawing, then at you, then back at the drawing.  "May I keep this?" She asks, taking the drawing to examine it closer.  You nod your head and she puts it inside a folder.  "May I speak with Janice privately?"  She asks.  There was something about that woman you didn't like.  She seemed fake, like she didn't actually care about what you had to say.  She probably didn't.  No one cares.  You nod your head yes.

        "I'll go get her."  You say quietly.  You get up from your seat and walk slowly across the room.  You hesitate before opening the door and fetching Janice.

        Janice looks up at you and smiles.  You stare blankly at her, just like you usually do when she smiles at you.  "She wants to see you."  You say.

        Her smile vanishes and a serious look soon replaces it.  She sets her book A Thousand Splendid Suns down and walks past you, squeezing your shoulder lovingly.  You cringe but accept her touch.  You hear the door close behind you and you sigh, taking a seat in the waiting room.

        You look around.  Toys for the younger kids cluttered the ground.  You so desperately wanted to clean up the mess, but you ignored the urge and sat there, wondering what they were talking about.

        The drawing.

        It made sense.  The look on her face when you finished the drawing was a mixture of shock and concern.  Plus, she asked to keep it so she must need or want it for something, right?

        You sighed again, and closed your eyes.  

         "Draw what comes to mind when I say the word mother." Her words echoed in your head.

        Your head began to throb.  You wince in pain, trying to open your eyes but it was too late.  A flashback was coming on and there was no way to stop it.

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        "But Mamma-" You whimpered.

        "Shut up!" She yelled, shoving you against the wall.  "How many times have I told you I am not your mother!  You do not deserve to be called my daughter.  I may have given birth to you but you are nothing but a screw up to me.  You are nothing but a failure.  You want to know why your father left us?"  She asked tauntingly.  "Because of you!"  

        A stinging pain began forming in your right cheek.  She slapped you, hard.

        "I hate you.  You're a worthless piece of shit.  You ruined my life!  Everything was fine until I had you, you know that?  Nothing could've made my life better."  She slurred.

        You collapsed to the ground.  "Mamma-" You whispered again.

        "Stand up!" She ordered.  You did as she told, afraid of what might happen if you didn't.

        You weren't usually like this.  You usually held your ground.  But today was different.  Today, you cried.  You broke down, and cried.

        "Stop crying!"  She snapped at you.  But you couldn't.  You couldn't stop crying.  As much as you wanted to you couldn't stop.  The tears kept pouring out one after another.  

        "I said stop!"  She shouted and smacked you again.  And again.  And again.

        She raised her fist to hit you again when the phone rang.  She glared at you and rushed away to answer it.

        "Hello?"  She answered sweetly.  

        "Yeah everything's fine.  The spoiled brat is just acting up again.  Honestly Mum I don't know what's wrong with her!  She's so disobedient!  I try my hardest to be her friend but I think I need to be stricter with her-"

        "Grandma she's lying!"  You shout through your tears.

        Her glares turn to daggers as she leaves the room.  "Oh that was nothing just her yelling at me telling me what a horrible mother I am."

        You collapse to the ground again, more tears pouring out than ever.  You didn't want your grandmother, the only person who ever treated you with kindness to think of you as some horrible monster.  What were you to do?  That's when it hit you, you'd run away.

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        You open your eyes in a panic and look at the clock.  This one only lasted two minutes, a personal record.  You wipe the sweat off your brow and quickly stand up.  You pace back and forth for what seems like hours before Janice returns.  She tied her blonde hair back into a pony tail, something you noticed she does when she's stressed.

        "Sweetie, do you have everything?  We're going home.  We need to talk."

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