The Guilt Consumes

Chapter 14

It's Monday morning and I'm not feeling up to going to school. I'm not up to communicating with anyone. I just, want to stay in bed all day and stay in the silence because silence is what is needed right now. I've been dreading this day for god knows how long now. I haven't slept at all.

My alarm blares out and I jab my finger down on the off button to stop it. Soon, silence is once heard again. I sigh and sit up rubbing my face.

Today is the 10th of September and on the 10th of September is Jackson's death anniversary. To say I'm looking forward to my morning would be a complete lie. I hear a faint knock on my door bringing me out of my thoughts.

"Come in" I announce and the door opens revealing my father. I huff and look towards my window avoiding any form of contact. I hear him sigh and walk in, closing the door after him.

"Lythe-" he speaks but I interrupt him. I can't hear this right now.

"Don't. I'm not in the mood for this. Not today. Not right now" is all I say. I still don't look to his direction.

"I-I just want to explain" he speaks again. I scoff and roll my eyes. I get up off of the bed and tidy it up.

"Can we not do this right now?" I ask him. I walk out of my door before I could even hear his response. I make my way to the bathroom and do my business. Once done I get out and walk back to my room to see it empty. I begin to get ready for school. Deciding on a pair of thin-cuffed tracksuit bottoms and a baggy t-shirt. I look at the faint white scars on my arms and cringe. Soon, my mind floods with all the therapy sessions I was forced to have.

"So, Blythe, how are you feeling today?" I stay silent. Can I really be bothered with this? However, if I don't answer in a positive way then I will never get out of this whole session altogether. I plaster on one of my biggest most fakest smiles ever and reply.

"Much better. I feel like these sessions are helping and I think I'm better now. I don't think I'll need these sessions again. I feel like how I used to be. Oh, and I've also stopped hurting myself. See, no recent scars" I tell my therapist while showing my arms and she smiles. The thing is, I've never stopped. I just found a new place to cut. Somewhere where no one will ever see it.

"Well, that's great news. Really it is. It's good to see that you're feeling great again. Feeling better and doing better. However, that doesn't mean we'll stop these sessions. If we are seeing improvements then it means that these meetings are helping a lot and we must carry them on" My smile instantly falls.

"So, I'll never stop these sessions?" I ask her. Anger growing within me. She sighs and takes her glasses off placing it on the table in front of us. The only thing separating us.

"Unfortunately, not for the time being no. One day Blythe. But small steps yeah. I can see you're faking all your emotions. I'm a therapist, it's my duty to pick up on these signs. If you fake how you are truly feeling, you'll never get better" I grind my teeth together. My jaw locking and tightening. My breathing becoming heavier.

"Don't you get it. I will never get better! So long as Jackson is not here, I will forever be gone. Missing. Never found. I can't be how I used to be because who I used to be was with him. Was with Jackson. No one truly saw the real me, only he did. And I'll never get to be that person again- I won't!" I bag on the table in front and glare at her.

I'm brought back to reality when I hear something drop. I look down to see my deodorant bottle on the floor. I sigh and pick it up placing it back in its rightful place. I look back at my arms and grimace. I shake my head and look through my closet. I find a hoodie deep in my closet and take it out. It looks too big to be a woman oversized jumper. I smell it and it smells... of pine trees and perfume mixed together.