SUPPRESSION •Complete•

AFTERMATH

AFTERMATH

It had been a while since I went to my therapist. We knocked the meetings down to once a month since I was talking and being a lot more open. That was virtually over. I've hardly spoken a words since the funeral. The most I'd actually talked was to English Coach when I vaguely explained my story to him.

I hadn't spoken a word to Lola, not to Evelyn and not to Gavin.

I certainly wasn't speaking to Lizzie and she knew that. She was a therapist after all, she could tell when I'd talk to her and when I wouldn't. She knew that I wouldn't, so we sat in completely silence. She scribbled things down on her notepad and I uselessly picked at my nails until they bled.

The following week at school, the last week of school, I'm almost positive I hadn't spoken a word to a single person.

Lola hadn't tried to talk to me either. She was wrapped up in her own thing, not concerned with me. We were sitting at a lunch table by ourselves. I was playing with a loose thread on my sleeve.

Lola: "Freya?"

Me: ". . ."

I looked up at her, acknowledging that she'd spoken to me.

Lola: "I'm moving. My family is following my brother to college. Since he's going to college out of state, we're going with him."

Me: ". . ."

I nodded, a little surprised. I was positive you went to college out of state to get away from your family. Poor Martin, he's not going to be catching a brake anytime soon.

Lola: "You've been a great friend, but I doubt we'll be keeping a long distance friendship. It's hard enough to be friends with you going to the same school."

It shocked me when I heard the underlying bitterness in her words. That shock quickly grew to anger. God, I wanted to say something, call her something. But I sneered at her and walked out of the cafeteria.

I didn't skip art. Lola was sitting next to Gavin at the other side of the room. I could literally feel the bitterness coming from them. I couldn't believe they both hated me so much.

Gavin's gaze connected with mine in science. I couldn't imagine the amount of confusion on his face. He studied me, as if trying to figure me out. He soon looked away, obviously not figuring anything out. And for some reason I wanted to help him figure it out.

But as the bell rang and school ended, all the students left and the teachers packed their things. I sat on the stone wall by our school. I watched friends leave together, couples swinging their hands and parents picking up their children. I felt something so foreign, aching in my chest. Something I'd never really felt before and not to this extant. I didn't know what it was, but I knew it was the aftermath of my decisions, the choices I made that led to this. This feeling was the aftermath and it hurt.

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One more chapter.