Ch 2 - What we did

There it was, a sight that made me go to therapy for a couple of months.

I swear I was okay, but it was too disturbing not to.

For the first six months that I went to therapy, the therapist couldn't crack me open. I was too in shock.

Even the school allowed me to take the month off despite the fact that it was exam period. They assured me they would find a way for me to get back into the curriculum and asked some of my classmates to help me.

To be honest, the incident made the papers.

It was the talk of the town for weeks, and no matter how much I tried to heal, it was always being talked about wherever I went. Not that I even went out much, but the little time I spent outdoors was pretty uncomfortable.

We were moved to my grandma's house the day after the incident, and it took me days to process that I even existed.

I was in shock. I was taken to the hospital multiple times because I would zone out in the middle of chores or tasks and hurt myself. Like when I was cooking, I would be back in the living room, reliving that horrible nightmare, and I would forget what I was doing at that moment and burn myself.

I wouldn't notice anything until someone came in and found my hand half toasted in the fire.

Even after that, I grew numb to the feeling of realisation that I had burned my hand.

Looking back at that moment, I wish I had never opened the door, never held that heel, or never gone down the stairs.

Or maybe I still would have, but I'm just trying to comfort myself.

What has happened has happened; I just have to continue living and find a way to start living my life again.

On one of my many visits to the therapist, I was finally compelled to talk.

"How are you today, Miss Evelyn?" she said, beaming with the prettiest smile ever.

Maybe because she hadn't seen what I saw. Maybe if she heard what I had done with these hands, she wouldn't smile as much when I come back to see her next week.

"I think I am okay?" I answered, more like a question.

She gestured for me to sit. I took a moment to scan my surroundings for the first time in weeks. Her office was on the third floor of a very busy building that housed small companies or growing ones like realtor branches, etc.

Not really sure about the details. I just knew it was on the third floor, second door of Queen Building.

In her office was a table with a huge computer and a lot of files. On the right side of where we sat, there was an open window.

I continued to look around like I was searching for something, trying to take in my surroundings.

She didn't disturb me and waited for me to finally meet her eyes.

"That's a new development. You seem to finally notice your surroundings."

"I notice my surroundings, I just choose not to acknowledge them," I said as I grabbed the bottle of water she had placed on the table before I arrived.

My throat was dry, so I chugged the whole thing down.

She just sat there with a notepad and pen, smiling like I had given her a gift and she was very happy about it.

"Why are you always smiling?" I asked, curious, because to me, I had nothing to smile about.

"Because I love to," she replied calmly.

In reality, I envied that smile. It looked genuine and peaceful and I envied what I didn't have.

I knew she knew about my predicament, but she didn't know what really happened, so She assumed it wasn't as bad as she thought.

Like they say, ignorance is bliss.

I wondered if her smile would fade when I finally told her.

I have to tell someone, maybe her at least.

What I have done, what we had both done.

And how I felt when I did it— can a human even feel this way?

But before I could open my mouth, my mother came to fetch me because our time was up and it was time to head home.

Yes, my mother.