"Skylar, honey, it's almost nine!" My mom warns me from her bedroom.
This morning sucked quite a lot because not only did I wake up late this morning, but today is the day that I meet my new therapist. Last year, my original therapist, Holly, had become pregnant. After her baby girl was born, she had quit her job, and decided to become a full time mom instead. When she had called my mom to inform her about the news, I wanted to cry. Holly had been my therapist for over four years now, and she was the only one (to me, at least) that had really known how to deal with problems like mine. One time, when I had felt like crap a little more than usual, she finally showed me her scars.
"I had written the word 'fat' all over my body," She had told me, pointing to the word.
She has definitely gotten better since then. I keep in touch with her, calling to see how she's been doing. I think that, with her having a family now, she's just a happier person. I'm happy for her. She finally found her happiness.
I quickly check my "mental checklist" to make sure that I have everything. I have my phone, my wallet, my keys, and my glasses. I check myself in the mirror that's mounted to the back of my door. Eh, I look fine, I think to myself. I close the door to my room behind me and start down the stairs, my mom is waiting by the door, as if this is the first day of school or something.
"I'll see you in an hour," she says with a warm smile.
"I love you, mom" I tell her back.
"Love you too," we exchange smiles, and with that, I close the door and head torwards my car. The car was a gift from my brother, Connor. He had gotten it for my 16th birthday, whilst my younger brother, Tristan, had given me one of his best action figures. I've had my car for three years, and it's still in pretty good shape. I only have one dent on my door from the one time I had opened it too fast and hit the truck next to me.
I hook my phone up to the cars sterio and listen to Ed Sheeran. It's raining this morning, so I had to turn on my windshield wipers. They made an awful squeaky noise whenever they were used, and that literally gave me goosebumps.
After maybe ten minutes of driving, I see the tall building and pull into the parking lot. I guess it's a bit of an overstatement to call the building tall, but I mean, I'm 5'3'', and the bulding was only three stories high. I shake my head and realise how stupid of a comment that was.
I navigate my way to the front door, and I must say, this place looks pretty nice. The walls of the, I guess you can call it, lobby were painted white, with paintings scattered around here and there. There were plants in almost every corner, though I'm not sure if they are real or not. To the left of me was a desk, occupied by a young lady, who I might guess to be in her mid twenties. She had long dark brown hair and was typing away, her eyes locked on her computer screen. I walked over to her, not sure if she knew that I was even here.
"Um excuse me? I'm looking for Julia Marks?" I asked.
She glanced at me then smiled. "Oh yes, and you must be Skylar Menson?"
"Yes, yes. That's me."
"Her office is the first one on the left of the elevator. She's ready for you now." She said and smiled.
I thanked her then followed her finger to where she had been pointing to. I'm not really sure why they needed an elevator for a three story building, but it could just be for handicapped people.
After the elevator stops, and the doors open, I look down the halls. No one was around. I walk over to her door and prepare myself. I check myself in the reflection of my phones screen before knocking on the door.
"Hello?" I say, knocking three times. I personally hate when people knock an unnecessary amount of times.
"Yes? Come in."
Here we go...
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Authors Note:
OKAY SO THIS IS GOING TO BE MY REAL FIRST BOOK BECAUSE MY OTHER ONE WAS JUST TOTAL CRAP. I'm going to try and keep updating this, and hopefully it ends up good. I really want to make a good book, and I thought, "hey, why not try wattpad?" So yeah, if you like it, idk . Vote or not idc, I just wanted to write something because i just haven't written in a while.
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The Texts
Teen FictionSkylar, the 19 year old, is unaware of who is to come into her life.