Shattered

Chapter 10

TW: suicide

Enjoy <3

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I followed Mr. Thompson to what I assumed was his office, where he had me sit in a chair in front of his desk.

He sat in the chair across from me behind the desk, looking at my hands fiddling with the hair tie on my wrist nervously.

"Why are you so nervous?" He asked bluntly.

Maybe because you're scarry?

"I don't know, sir." I said quietly, immediately remembering that I wasn't supposed to call him sir.

"Sorry, I'm sorry; I won't do that again." I said quickly, not wanting him to be mad.

He looked at me for a minute, looking at my hands before looking into my eyes, almost like he knew what I was thinking.

"Adeline, you know I'm not going to hurt you, right?" He asked, keeping the same tone as before.

I hesitated, not knowing how to answer that question.

Noticing my hesitation, Mr. Thompson leaned back in his chair, waiting for an answer.

"Yes." I lied quietly.

For all I knew this man and all his sons could beat the heck out of me the second I did something wrong.

"I don't like when people lie to me, Adeline." He said, somehow knowing that was a lie.

I looked at my hands, snapping the hair tie against my wrist.

Again, he waited, silently demanding an answer.

I took a deep breath, trying to get the courage to answer him.

"It's not that I think you are going to hurt me," I said slowly, choosing my words carefully, "I'm just very used to it, and people lying."

"What did they do to you?" He asked.

Very straightforward I see.

"Um, a lot." I said quietly, not wanting to elaborate.

"That's not an answer." He pointed out.

Why did he want to know what happened?

"I'd rather not talk about it right now." I almost whispered.

He looked at me for a second, tapping a pen against his desk.

"You're a lot different here than you were at the school." He said.

I gave him a small fake smile, nodding lightly.

"Why?" He asked.

Why are you asking so many questions?

"I don't know." I said quietly, trying to ignore the anxiety growing in my chest.

He took a deep breath, set the pen down, and leaned forward a little.

"I would like to start with talking about your health." He said, changing the subject completely.

I already knew where this was going, but I stayed quiet.

"You're very small for your age," He observed, "We need to get you to start eating more. Hunter will be able to help you more than I can, but that is what I am most concerned with at the moment."

Called it.

I gave him a small nod, already knowing I was underweight.

"I have talked to Hunter, and he said you aren't very fond of doctors." He continued, "We have agreed that, starting next week, he will give you weekly check-ups, just to get you used to the idea of everything."