We arrive at the therapists office 49 minutes later.
I hop out of the car before the vehicle is completely stopped.
Okay, so that wasn't the smartest idea ever.
But I can't be in cars.
No way.
Not since it happened.
"I'm glad to see you're eager to see the therapist." My Aunt says.
I glare at her.
If only she knew.
But she won't ever know.
Because of it.
"Well come on now." She says over cheerfully, trying to pull me of the sidewalk and through the door.
I keep my feet firmly planted, refusing to go.
She got me this far.
But that is as far as I'm getting.
She sighs and heaves me over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
Curse my smallness.
I hear the door open and I'm on the floor.
I try to make a run for it.
Aunt Kara is blocking my way.
Pouting, I walk over to one of the over plushy chairs and sit down with my arms crossed.
A young woman walks out of the door that I'm guessing leads to the torture chamber.
"I'll be seeing Molly Benson now." She says with a huge fake smile on her face.
I seriously wished I would have jumped out of the car.
YOU ARE READING
49
Short Story"The number 49 never used to have any significance in my life. It was always just the number after 48 and before 50. But that was before it happened."
