He taps his foot against the carpeted floor of his therapist's office, wondering if he should say it. If he should even say her name out loud. He hasn't done that in at least a year. He'd never say it; especially not in front of his friends.
As the therapist, a middle-aged woman in a grey pantsuit, takes notes on his progress, he clears his throat and decides to speak, "She's coming back from California. Today."
She looks up, "Who?"
It takes him a while. He has to work up the nerve to say it.
"Maddie," he says, picking at his nails. He only mentioned her name once, in his first session last year, but the therapist nods. She was the only good thing he's ever mentioned. "Something bad happened, I think."
Cover art by Brigid Vaughn (burdge on deviant art)
#freementalillness
I was 15 when I wrote this. You know she gonna be a mess.
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This story has a sequel. Go check it out!
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"There is no fun in this, Mikayla. This life. It's living hell."
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This was started out of fun on my Instagram account (the original account was deleted but there is now a new one), and a lot of my amazing followers really liked it, which is awesome, and I decided to put it into an official story!
I also asked helped for a name for the girl and some of my followers said Kayla.
Really, if it wasn't for the positive feedback on the random Michael thing I was doing, I wouldn't be doing this.
~ Em