"Honey, you need to tell me what's wrong." My mother pleased to me, resting her skinny hand over mine. I looked away my blonde hair covering my face, frowning. "Go away." I said weakly. I closed my eyes, the events passing through my brain as I said those same words but nothing happened.
My mom's soon gentle exterior turned cold and anger invaded her face. "I'm sick and tired of this. You can't even talk to a own boy without being scared. You need help." My own mother. Turning her head away she walked away and out of my room. I sighed looking away, flopping on my bed I checked my phone. Notifications popped up on my home screen. You can say I was popular, just because of my brother. He was the perfect child, good grades, the star wide receiver. He was such a sweet kind brother, the only one knowing what actually happened.
"Erin."
My mom yelled from the bottom of the stairs.
"Yeah."
I yelled back, acting as if nothing ever happened.
"It's 7:30
I scrambled out of bed my sheets circling my leg. Dang gravity.
"Klutz" my brother murmured as he walked out of his room in his vineyard vines. What a prep. I snorted shaking my long blonde hair out of my face. Quickly opening my wood drawers I picked out some hollister jeans and a crop top. Slipping on my gladiator sandals. I quickly put on mascara and foundation.
Right before I was about to leave to get into Stacy's car. My mom called me in a stern voice. I rolled my eyes turning around.
"What?"
I snapped at her, which she was used to.
"Your starting therapy at Dr. Sue's house."
I never heard of having therapy at a house. I nodded in agreement quickly escaping her glare from me.
