Sincerely, Harry || Homicidal Prequel

Entry 05

Dear diary,

Turns out my therapist didn't want to talk about Dustin. Instead, she wanted to talk about Anderson. Apparently he beat up one of his followers when he got pissed and she wanted to discuss it with me because he had hit me before. They locked him up properly this time, in the padded room for the next week, but that doesn't make their negligence disappear.

I didn't want to talk to her about how Anderson treats me, but she told me we wouldn't have to talk about Dustin on Wednesday for longer than twenty minutes. Our appointments can sometimes near an hour and a half. I took her deal.

I told her about the time they put me in the padded room because I punched him and how he instigated it. My therapist simply nodded and wrote it down in my file as well as Anderson's. Apparently his violence is a big concern around West Rock as of recently. Since I got here, actually.

I also told her how Anderson picks on Alyssa and I, but especially me because of my sexuality. This is when she put the pen away, leaned forward, and said: “Your sexuality isn't anyone's concern, especially Anderson. I don't want you going around hitting him, but I do want you to stick up for yourself. Do it appropriately, and make sure you use your words. We're here not force people to change their opinions on homosexuality, religion, or race, but we're here to help them act on their opinions respectfully and to take control of their mental illnesses.” Then she sat back, wrote some more things down, and told me I could go and that she'd see me on Wednesday.

So I left.

I went to the courtyard and laid down beside Alyssa. She held out her hand and I took it, and for the first time since I met her, she didn't spiral into a panic attack. Her fingers trembled, followed my her hands, arms, and legs, but she didn't cry or start rocking.

She looked at me and said: “I don't think I want to kill myself anymore, Harry.”

I was happy, because I cared for her and I didn't want her to die once we got released. We're getting out on the same day, oddly, and I really couldn't have deal with it if she ended up committing suicide.

“Really?” I had asked.

“Really,” she had said. “Listen, Harry, I have to tell you something.”

“Go ahead, anything,” I had replied.

At this point, my heart was beating really fast. I had noticed then that Alyssa's hair was slightly curlier than usual, almost like my sister's looked when she slept in braids. Her mascara was heavier, too, and I could see the faint scaley look of her concealer. She was trying really hard, it was obvious.

She had looked away before staring back into my eyes, and I could see tears in hers. This was serious, I could tell, so I squeezed her hand tighter and hoped the small reassurance wouldn't sent her into a panic attack.

It didn't, but her confession did.

“Harry, I'm in love with you,” she had said.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she yanked her hand away and covered her ears and started rocking. It took a moment for my shock to wear off before I gathered Alyssa in my arms and tried to calm her down.

Considering she gets panic attacks when people touch her, I guess it was stupid, but I felt her relax in the slightest before she got worked up again and it felt good inside.

When she calmed down, we stayed pressed together and I could see how hard it was for her not to lose herself again. She had mascara running down her cheeks and her cheap concealer was peeling, but I still found her so beautiful.

“Do you love me, too?” she had asked.

There was so much hope in her eyes, and it broke my heart to shake my head. I tucked her hair behind her ear and tried to cup her cheek, but betrayal flashed across her eyes and she pushed me away.

“I'm sorry,” I had murmured to her. “I'm not ready for a relationship. My last one ended with the guy dead. I like boys. I mean, I think I do. Listen, I haven't figured myself out.”

“We're never going to see each other when we get out of here. We might as well just be together while we're in here, so we're not so lonely,” she had responsed.

I had shrugged, but she did have a valid point. So I simply said: “I don't know if I can properly be in love with you, but I like being with you, and I'm okay with giving it a shot.”

She had smiled and tried to kiss me, but she broke down just as our lips touched and she was too scared to let me hold her. I think Alyssa is suffering from more than just anxiety.

The nurses came and got her and put her in the calm room, and then they asked me a bunch of questions that I didn't know how to answer. I doubted Alyssa would want me to bring up our almost kiss, so I told them our arms ended up pressed together really tightly and she freaked. They believed me.

I really need to figure myself out.

Sincerely,

Harry.