1- The one with the flat tire

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My hands tremble as I look blankly at the white wall in-front of me. I try to control my tremors but it is no use. They are refusing to listen to me. The clock ticks at me tauntingly, a painful reminder at how slow this hour was going.

My therapist, Claudia sighs, 'You have been coming here for three months Autumn, and I'm yet to hear you actually discuss how you actually feel.'

I shrug, 'I told you, I'm fine.'

'If you were fine, would you really be sitting in my office?'

'I don't choose to come.' I state dryly.

'But the people around you feel as if it's important that you do.'

I nearly scoff at her comment, what people around me? The only person I've really got left is my mother. And even then, she's only half in the picture. Before all of this happened, I didn't have enough fingers to count the friends I had.

'I'm fine, honestly. There is nothing to talk about.'

'Well, how are you feeling about your return to school?'

I squirm at her question, but only slightly, I didn't want her to psychoanalyse my reaction, the last thing I needed was her to report to my mom was that I needed more sessions.

'Neutral. I mean I'm not thrilled, but what kid enjoys school?'

'You're going into your senior year, very exciting.'

It was.

Senior year used to be the one thing I dreamed about, the parties, my last year as cheer-captain, spending time with my boyfriend before we left for college, finally graduating from that hell-hole.

But now all I felt was numb.

'Do you think you'll return to cheer? From what your mother told me, it used to be a large part of your life.'

I shake my head, 'No.'

'It's natural to lose interest in things when you are struggling with your mental health-'

I cut her off harshly, 'I told you I'm fine, I'm not struggling.'

Claudia nods before she turns her head towards the clock, 'Well, our hour is up.'

I quickly grab my bag and stand up, 'Thanks.'

I race towards the door, the moment my hand touches the handle, I hear her say something else.

'Autumn, I hope that your transition back to school goes smoothly.'

It won't.

'I'm sure it will.' I mutter.

The second I step out of her office, I'm overcome with a sense of relief, I can finally breathe without feeling judged or pressured. I keep my head low as I walk past her waiting room, in-fact I keep it low until I get outside and reach my car.

The last thing I needed was anyone who knew me, to see me sitting in a therapist's office. That would make the rumours worse, if that was even possible.

Once I'm inside the car, I check my phone, even though it was pointless, no-one was going to reach out to me. The only notification I had was from my mom, telling me that she would be home late for dinner and I needed to sort my own food out. I remember that there was a time where my phone would constantly be buzzing. And I found it so irritating, and now I kind of miss it.

Actually, I don't even know if I do.

I don't think I have the capacity to feel anything anymore.

Fuck, I don't even think I want to feel anything. It was pointless, the good feelings fade and the bad ones stick.

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