"step on the scale."
"what?"
"step on it."
"what? no." she didn't come prepared today. She would always usually be one step ahead but this time she's forgotten.
"and why can't you?"
"because i don't want to."
"andrea you know i have to check your weight."
"and you know i don't give a fuck."
"watch your language in this room."
stands up from chair, and starts walking towards the door.
"andrea you can't do what you did last ti-"
she opens the door stepping out of the room, leaving the door wide open.
"i!"
"don't!"
"give!"
"a!"
"fuck!"
all eyes from the front desk, until the other patients, patiently waiting for their therapist had all eyes on her. all shocked from her sudden out burst.
"what did i say about that language!?"
"i'm not in your room, now am i?"
she slams the door shut, leaving her therapist puzzled, and shocked by her actions.
when she walks out the door, he's their on the steps, sitting down from the second to last one. his body turns around so he can see andrea standing.
"what are you doing here?"
YOU ARE READING
Cuts.
Short Storyi drew a butterfly on my wrist, in hopes that this feeling would no longer persist, but things got bad and i started to cry, so the butterfly on my wrist had to die. once again i tried to set myself free, but it seems my thoughts have stolen the ke...
