"Ms. Williams?" Henry knocks on the door and I open my eyes, I was trying to take a nap but it's not working. My room is white (just like the whole freaking building" and there's not even a window so I can look outside! "Yes?" I say sitting up he peeks in the door, he's got a pile of clothes in his hands. "You need to put this on and in about twenty minutes I will be coming back so you can go to your group session with doctor Brantley." Group session? With doctor Brantley? What about doctor Smith? I don't ask those questions though so I just nod. When he's out the door I unfold the pile of clothes. It's a blue dress..? It looks like a nightgown, there's five of them. And the thing is they're short sleeve, no way to cover up my scars or bandages. Henry also gave me a pair of white shoes. Right now I'm wearing a white long sleeve shirt so I put it over the dress, it looks funny and weird but I don't want nobody to see my hands all bandaged up because I cut myself too deep. It wasn't that deep, not deep enough to make my pain go away. My parents should've just let me bleed out and die.
When there's a knock on my door I automatically assume it's Henry so I open the door and greet him. "Ready Ms. Williams?" He asks looking at my clothes. "Yes." "Umm aren't you going to take off your shirt?" He points at the long sleeve shirt. "No, I'm a bit cold. It's not a problem that I'm wearing it, right?" He nods, "Umm right. I'm sure they won't mind." He begins to walk and I follow him. My heart is pounding really fast. I'm not good with people and I'm going to have a group session? "Right this way." Henry says pointing to a door. I take a deep breath as he opens the door for me, twenty pairs of eyes look up and stare at me. Panic hits me and my knees tremble. "Oh umm you must be, uh, Sydney?" A woman says looking at me. She's very pretty, looks about thirty something, has long dark hair and wears a pair of glasses. I nod because I can't seem to speak. "Please come sit over here." She points to an empty chair next to a girl with blonde curly/straight hair girl. I walk over and sit down, all eyes are still on me. I look down at my lap and Henry closes the door and leaves.
"Hello Sydney, I am doctor Brantley. This is a group session we are discussing our problems this will help all of you.." I decide to tune her out. 'This will help all of you' oh please, because locking us in a clinic with depressing white walls and depressing people is going to help you. Honestly, I feel like our parents only did this to get rid of us.
"Let's start with you mister Nick." She points her pen to a tanned boy with pretty caramel eyes and curly hair. He looks about seventeen or eighteen. "I don't have a problem, my parents just put me in this clinic cause they don't wanna deal with me." Doctor Brantley looks at her paper then at him. "Nick, I'm trying to help you here. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong, listen Im doing this as a group so you all realize there's other people with problems similar to yours. That you're not alone. I'm just trying to help." She looks at Nick with sympathy, "I don't need your help." He says. There's some 'oooooohs' in the circle and Dr. Brantley's face turns bright red, "You need help more than any of us yo." A guy with black hair says, he looks like a younger version of Taylor Lautner expect he kinda looks asian. "What the fuck did you say Scott?" Nick gets up and clenches his fists. "Nothing man, nothing. Chill." Scoot (I'm guessing that's his name) says. "He's got anger problems," The blonde girl besides me whispers, "but he is one sexy mofo." She grins. I look at the doctor who tells Nick to sit down and calm down.
Fifteen minutes, I've been here fifteen minutes and I already know why these people are here. Nick has anger problems, obviously, Scott and Evan have a drug problem, Carrie has an eating disorder, Lina and Abigail have depression, Rylan and Felix tried to kill themselves. "Sydney it's your turn." I 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, she didn't tell a soul her gallery grew. Her drawings were different, no paper no pens, but a bandage here and there."
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...
