Just Hold Me (Sidney Crosby) EDITING THEN CONTINUING

Chapter 24 - Sleep

I look around the room I remember quite well.

Brown comforting walls with soothing decor and a nice matching couch I remember the feeling of.

I see myself. Sitting on that couch staring at the therapist. His beady eyes stare me down through the small rims of his glasses. I remember this session quite well.

"Sometimes, I want to die." I say, placing my hand under my chin, staring at the man in the chair across from me.

I study myself and see the look of misery on my face. It was quite obvious, and during one of the last sessions with him, I refused the hide the pain I was dealing with in that point of my life.

He looks at me, calm and collected, crossing one leg over the other.

"Are you feeling suicidal?" He asks, calmly, through slightly parted chapped lips.

I looked at him, a plain expression on my face that really expressed no emotion.

"Not actively," I ball my hand into a fist and let it hold up a side of my face that I let dangle, "but if something bad were to happen to me, I wouldn't necessarily be upset about it either."

I let out a long breath through my nose.

I stood in fear, watching myself talk to the therapist my uncle had gotten for me, my eyes flicking back and forth between the two memories.

"Please explain." He says, studying my every move.

The Hannah on the couch refused to show any kind of emotion for him to give a once-over with his openminded eyes.

"I don't think I actually have the courage to actually go through with committing suicide, but if I were to be walking across the road and a car was coming straight for me, I'm not sure I would get out of the way."

The therapist seemed to not be so collective anymore. Maybe even squirmy. I sounded scary. I had always been nothing but sweet when I came into his office, but this session I remember quite clearly. Because this was the day I had decided I had enough.

I felt a sharp pain in my shoulders, making me collapse to the ground, watching the therapist continue to stare at the Hannah who revealed nothing and refused to be read or studied.

I scream out in pain, but no one even looks up.

Then I wake up.

Evgeni and Sidney are holding my shoulders, pushing a little too hard, which I was glad for.

I exhale deeply, relieved I was out of that memory.

I hate getting flashbacks from things I don't want to rememeber.

"What is going on?" Sidney says loudly.

I try to sit up, but their hands are still pushing me against the matress.

"Guys. Ow."

They release me.

I sit up and lean against the bed frame, rubbing my eyes.

Sidney grabs my hand, surprising me. I look at him with wide eyes as my hand is yanked away from my face.

"Excuse me. This is my arm." I say, trying to get my forearm out of his hand.

Evgeni places his hand on Sid's shoulder as if to warn him.

He looks at me, turning his head.

"Are you mad at me?" I ask him, scared that he was.

"You were mumbling about suicide. I'm a little...upset." He said coldly, staring into my brown eyes that matched his.

"It was just a dream. It's okay. I'm fine. Really."