The freshly red-painted door opened in front of me before I could even place my hand on the handle.
I glanced up quickly to see Tyler's Mum, Elizabeth, standing in her old fluffy pink dressing gown and hair thrown up in a loose messy bun.
She let a grin spread across her dewy skin as she threw her arms around my shivering body, tightly embracing me.
"Come in, theres something waiting for you." she exclaimed, grabbing my fair skinned wrist and gently dragging me indoors.
Relief washed over me as the realisation set in that Liz's behaviour implied Tyler was clearly over-reacting.
I gently eased my red mucky baseball boots from my aching feet, and watching Liz titter over to the kitchen straight ahead to presumably make me a cup of tea. Strong, no sugar.
Some rancid smell entered my victimized nostrils, stinging them horriically. It smelt strongly of death.
I questioned my relief again, and I slowly stepped over to the living room door, which was slightly ajar.
Tyler's soft voice was oozing sweet hums. I smiled to myself as I pushed open the door quietly, to see the wonderful sight before me.
"She wasn't fat, Bri!" Tyler whisper-yelled, jumping up and rushing to hug me.
I laughed cheerfully as the sight of new life settled. Kittens. Tyler's 'chubby' cat, Mya was never just fat. She was pregnant.
Roughly 7 tiny forms were squirming around in a shallow cardboard box, emmiting weak meows.
Tyler squeezed me, and grabbed my wrist in the same manner as his mother. I winced slightly at the pain of the grip against the scars of my mind, yet I still somehow felt safe.
YOU ARE READING
I talk to my therapist about you
RandomA teen girl had been battling a severe fight with the demon of depression for several years, with her strong protective partner to push her to succeed. But when she acts upon destructive thoughts, will he still be promising unconditional love?
