When I wake up the next morning, I've nearly forgotten about the whole storm thing that happened yesterday, although I'm still being haunted by the worst of it. I also got a full night's sleep which is something I haven't experienced since I started to have these 'visions'.
Just as I was about to get out of bed, Will races into my room with a scared expression on his face.
"Y/N." He says. "Mom found out about your visions. I didn't tell her I promise. She told me to tell you that she's taking you to Dr. Owens in ten minutes."
I freeze. "Shit." I mutter. "Well, it was inevitable that she was gonna find out."
"Yeah." Says Will.
He opens his mouth to say something else when Mom yells something from downstairs. "Y/N and Will! Come and get breakfast before it gets cold!"
Will walks out of my room and closes the door behind him.
I throw on some clothes on that were on my floor: denim mom-jeans and a yellow t-shirt (my aesthetic) and go downstairs.
Breakfast is simple like it always is: poached eggs and toast.
I try to eat it quickly to avoid conversation just in case Mom asks me anything about my 'visions'. (whenever I type visions I just think of that's so raven).
"You can slow down, Y/N." Mom says, before biting into a piece of toast.
I sigh and swallow my mouthful.
"Do you want to tell me about your 'visions'?" She asks.
I exchange a look with Will. "Not... Not really."
Mom nods slowly, stubbing out a cigarette. "Its ok, it's ok. We'll talk about it when we get to Dr. Owens."
I nod as well.
I'm dreading getting to Dr. Owens.(HUGE ASS TIME SKIP TO WHEN THEY'RE WITH DR. OWENS BC I'M LAZY)
Mom squeezes my hand as we wait for Dr. Owens.
"It's gonna be ok." She whispersI nod as Dr. Owens walks into the room.
"Hey there, kid! You must be Y/N. Your mother has told me that you've been having strange visions, is that correct?" He asks, sitting down in an office chair.
"Yeah." I say quietly, recoiling a little bit. "It's correct."
There's something off about him. As if he's trying to hide something. Something... weird."Ok." He says, smiling. "Do you maybe want to tell me what these visions are like?"
I sigh. "In every vision, I see this... thing."
Dr. Owens raises his eyebrows. "What did this 'thing' want?"
I sigh again, a little louder this time. "It... it wanted to just kill, I guess."
I look over at Mom who looks a little shocked.
He makes a few notes and then turns back to me. "Did it want to kill you?"
I shake my head. "No, not me. Everyone else."
Dr. Owens nods slowly and glances down at his notes before disappearing into another room.
Mom walks over to me and squeezes my hand. "See, honey? It wasn't so bad and I bet you feel so much better after talking to professional about your problems."
I cringe at the word 'professional' and nod a no.
Dr. Owens appears as quickly as he went away and asks Mom for a word.
They speak in hushed tones that I can barely hear, although I strain my ears and can make out only a few words like 'stress' and 'trauma'.
He goes back into the office chair he was sitting in before and Mom stays standing.
"Hate to be the barer of bad news, kid." He says in a very try-hard way. "But it looks like your condition is only gonna get worse but I'm thinking over time it might fade, we don't really know."
I knit my eyebrows together in confusion. "I don't really understand..."
He sighs. "You have Post-Traumatic-Stress-Disorder or PTSD, Y/N."
I nod slowly although I don't completely understand. "O... kay?"
Mom sighs. "I'm sorry, honey."
"Not your fault." I whisper.
I honestly thought that I could just go on pretending like nothing's wrong yet here we are and I'm now being diagnosed with PTSD.
Yo so this chapter was so boring I'm so sorry that you had wait so long for a shitty chapter.
Hopefully the next one could be better I just thought that this would be important but maybe not idk...........
Anyway, I listened to Salad Days by Mac DeMarco while I was writing this and I also watched Ferris Bueller's Day Off and it was hella good.
See y'all l8er I suppose.🌊Eva🌊

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