"And what happened after that?"
My eyes perked up to my therapist, Dr. Powers, as she looked at me intrigued, occasionally hitting her pen off of the clipboard. I sighed, sitting up from my spot in the sofa. I had almost forgotten about where I was because of how I was cracking my brain for answers, so being pulled out of it so suddenly was jarring.
"Well the neighbours called for a noise complaint. Good timing, Y'know? If the police hadn't arrived then I would've bled out like Johnny did. Haven't I told you this a million times before?" I complained, Dr. Powers only nodding in response while hitting something down on the clipboard. It was like that a lot, I don't think she really cared about what I said. I was in the biggest case of the 90's and shes just trying to milk that to further her career or something.
"Is that everything? I gotta pick Todd up from school soon so I don't want this to drag on" I added after around a minute of silence. Dr. Powers stopped her frenzied writing with a hum, seemingly thinking about something. It was like she was debating in her head whether she should even say it, but eventually she did.
"And you're sure that was all real?" There we go. She looked at me expectingly, as if she was trying to do some deep rooted psychological evaluation. I immediately stood up, rolling my eyes in distain. "And that's my cue to leave. I'm not fucking crazy, it's took how many therapists to come to that conclusion? Christ, it was five years ago, but that doesn't mean I'm delusional. I know what I saw and I never want to see it again."
That happened a lot. I understand where they're coming from when they don't believe me, but it's already been proven that it's not some sort of trauma response or psychosis! Everyone already knows the amount of bodies that were found in his basement, only a few alive after that... thing got to them, so it's just frustrating to be the only witness that knows what was going on. Thank god that asshole is dead and I can move on for that life, but if he ever comes back then he better pay up for all of those therapy and medical bills.
Dr. Powers just sighed, not moving from her seat but watching me like a hawk. "Remember, your last appointment is next Friday. You're a lot more stable than your first doctor described you as, so try not to get PTSD again, okay? You're only giving me money, after all." She laughed, but I just glared at her and walked off. It's not uncommon for his little jokes to irk me, so thank god I'll never see that bitch again. As I walked out of her office everyone in the waiting rooms head turned to me, some unfortunate enough to share the same doctor as me. That whole little story got me pretty infamous, but I know their glances are out of pity more than curiosity. Whatever, I don't have time for that. It's only... oh, it's early! The clock on the wall read that there was like 3 hours until he had to come home. That gives me time to do some bullshit.
I stepped out of the building, my head hanging low as usual. The stares followed me outside, friends gossiping to each other while looking at me and such. You get used to it when shit like this happens— hell, I'd probably do the same as they did. I'm right at the centre of a mass murder case so I wouldn't blame them for being shocked, and I wouldn't blame them for thinking that I did it... well, maybe once or twice I did but that was out of my hands.
Stuff like that doesn't just go away. I've moved away from that shitty city and that baggage came with me. The only thing that I can do is say no to interviews for cheap crime documentaries and keep my kid safe
Or
Just hope that he doesn't come back.
It's been years, I know, and he's probably a skeleton by now, but with the whole afterlife thing being real you really can't help but think. Worse than that is what happens when I die! I'm gonna be tortured by him and the devil! Good job I'm not suicidal anymore cause I'm living well into my 90's, I fucking dare anything to take me before then!
Before I knew it I was already at my car. I quickly unlocked it and climbed in, feeling immensity less tense than before. That happened a lot. Being out in the open felt... well, I suppose it feels oddly claustrophobic. Maybe, just maybe, one day I'll be able to live without being so tense, but that day is not today.
With a sigh my hand reached over and turned on a radio. It was blasting some pop song that I had never heard of, but it was good enough to ignore. With that, I started the car and began to drive home. It didn't take too long to get home, but traffic usually isn't that big of a deal in the middle of a weekday anyways. When I had found a parking space I got up and made my way into the building, climbing up a few sets of stairs since the elevator was broken. The worst thing about it was that it smelled like a dehydrated kid pissed everywhere, but considering this world that we live in they probably did. When I finally made it to my door I just pushed it open; the lock was busted and I didn't have enough money to fix it, but that's what happens when you're between jobs.
When I walked in I was greeted by my cat, Beans. I originally got it to help Todd cope with his anxiety, but he warmed up to me pretty quickly. The kid adores him, it's amazing. I picked him up and with a content purr he let me. An unfortunate thing though is that I had barely even touched my ass to the sofa when the phone just had to ring, because of course it did. I'm not allowed to relax for a few hours with my cat, nooooo. I carefully moved away from the sofa, gently placing Beans onto the cushions before walking up to and picking up the phone.
"Hello, is this Y/N L/N? This is Generic School Elementary calling about a uhhhhh- Todd Casil? He got into a fight again, God I hate my job, So we need you to pick him up. Blah blah blah, kids are the source of all of my problems, blah-" With a groan I hung up as the office lady obviously doesn't give a shit about her job. She's probably fucking the principal and janitor anyway, I don't care. Really though, this is the 4th time this month that he's had to be sent home. I don't know what I'm doing wrong, he seems fine at home! I swear if he's being bullied then I'm not gonna hesitate to kick a child. He doesn't deserve something like that, not after the life that he's lived. I don't want him to turn out like me, I want him to be better. I want him to be better than us all.
Welp, guess this means I'm gonna have to get into parent mode
YOU ARE READING
Aberration (JTHM x Reader)
HorrorHow do people cope when they are thrusted into a situation that they don't want to be in. Do they adapt to their surroundings or do they simply suffer?
