"Honey, I just want you to know its for your own good." Mom says holding a tissue in her hand. "We are so sorry but we have to do this, but your mother is right it's for your own good." Dad says. It's the same thing they told me when we moved away from California. When they separated me from my Anthony. "We thought you'll be over it by going away from that place." Dad says, "But it's been two years. And and then you tried to do it again-" mom breaks and starts to sob. I should feel bad, I should hug her but I don't. I stand there showing no emotion just staring at the building. "Laura sweetheart, keep it together." My dad says wiping her tears. Mom nods and breaths in and out rapidly. Dad grabs my suitcase and walks me to the building, they still have control of me since I'm still seventeen. But I will be tiring eighteen in just a week, yet they're going to lock me up.
We walk in and a blonde haired woman greets us. Her coat reads "Dr. Smith." My heart swells. Could she be related to Anthony? My Anthony? Could she? A tear falls from my eyes, "No don't cry Sydney! It's okay sweetheart. I promise this will help you." Dad says hugging me. Don't cry Sydney, I've heard that so many times. But what dad doesn't know is that I'm crying because I'm remembering Anthony. He thinks Im crying because I'm being put in a clinic that's suppose to help me with my depression and cutting "problem".
"We will help you through this dear." Dr. Smith says, she looks about twenty nine or so. She's wearing a blue tight skirt and a white button up shirt along with her doctor coat. She starts talking to my parents and I mute them out, I look around the white halls. There's no color, it looks even more depressing. How is that suppose to help? There's nurses well I'm guessing they're nurses cause they wear white clothing. But there's no other people like me.
Dad and mom give me one last hug and of course mom is crying and dad looks like he's about to cry. That's so sad, they are wasting their life. I have taken away their happiness for the past two years, eleven months, and three weeks. A man dressed in white grabs my suitcase. "Henry will be taking you to your room, okay?" Dr. Smith says, I just nod. I follow Henry down a hall and don't even look back when I hear my mother sob harder.
*guys what did yall think of the first part of the sequel to scars?
YOU ARE READING
The stories in my flesh (Sequel to scars)
Teen FictionI look around the circle it's my turn to talk, I look down at my lap. " I knew a girl who liked to draw. She drew pictures that nobody saw, she was more artistic during the night. In the cold shower out of any sights. She kept a secret no one knew...
