I forced my meds down my tight throat, then tossed the blankets back and rushed to the bathroom. It felt like I’d be sick, but I somehow kept it down. Instead I stripped and got into a scalding shower. I lost it and slid down the shower wall, gripping my knees while Iquietlysobbed. I was so tired of being weak like this. Tired of crying. Tired of panic attacks. Of nightmares. So tired ofeverything.
I was never talking about that night again. Never. My dad had done enough damage. I was finished dreaming about it.
“Good morning,” Arisaid as she walked in. She turned on the sink and started brushing her teeth.
I sniffled a few times and stood, pushing my hair back. I had to compose myself now that she was in here. Luckily, this was one of the few times I could.“Morning,”I said,faking cheerfulness. I shut off the water and wrapped in a towel, giving her a forced smile as I got out. I brushed my teeth while she took in my swollen eyes.
“Were you crying?”
“Just a little. I’ll be in my room.” I left and shut myself in my room, then pulled on a loose pair of pajama pants and baggy t-shirt. I tied my hair in a messy updo and stared at the vanitymirror.No reflection. As always.
“Vixen?”
I whirled to see Dennison the bed, playing with his new lighter.“You scared me.”
“What’swrong?” He let the fire die and set it aside. “I felt you crying.”
“I had a nightmare about my dad.”My eyes were stinging but I was determined not to cry. Of course, two tears fell. Followed by two more. Dennis patted the bed and I gladly went to him.“I hate having a mental illness so much. I’m tired of it. I just wanna be normal.”
“Normal is overrated. You should know that. You’re weird as fuck.”
“Rude.”I halfheartedly hit his arm, but it did make me feel better.“Thank you.”
“Can I do anything to help?”
I shook my head.“I just need to block it out. That night. I shouldn’t have talked about it.” I played with his fingers for a couple of minutes, feeling slightly better from sitting with him but not having enough energy to interact.
“Hi Dennis. I thought I heard you.”Aricame tosit at the foot of my bed.“Feeling any better?”
“Yeah. I just wish these nightmares would stop.”
“I know what might help,” she started. “There’s this thing called therapy—”
“Nope.”
“You need to work through your PTSD, Emy. All your psychiatrists have told you this.”
“Not my new one,” I said.
“Because you just met. I’m sure she’ll bring it up soon. You can’t keep burying this.”
“Watch me. I’ve been practicing for years.” I grinned, then sighed when they both looked at me with the same level of disapproval. “What do you want from me?”
“Therapy. I literally just said it. I made you an appointment for this Friday at noon. Dennis is taking you in case you try to run away again. This is officially an intervention.”
“Oh my god,” I groaned. “Why are we doing this?”
“Because you need it,” Dennis said.
“That part. And don’t be mad at Dennis for this. He just agreed to take you. This is my doing. Blame me if you wanna be mad about it.”
“I’ll be mad atbothof you, thank you very much. But not today. I’m tired.”
“Good, ‘cause it wouldn’t make any difference. The appointment is made and Dennis is kidnapping you.I’mgonna go make breakfast. I take it you guys don’t want anything?” She waited for us to both say no before heading downstairs.
I leaned against the headboard and turned to Dennis.“You know, I thought you were mad at me yesterday until you came to say hi.”
“Why would I be mad at you?”
