scapegoat ━━ mike schmidt

𝟬𝟭𝟯 elastic band

SCAPEGOAT / Chapter Thirteen

Malakai was back in his therapist's room soon enough. Everything was the same: the colourful walls, the coping mechanisms, Rachel wearing one of her usual flowery dresses with her long, brown hair free-flowing. The one thing that had changed was Malakai's feelings.

Usually, he'd turn up to therapy without a care in the world. It was almost like a mix of a chore and a hang-out for him. But that day, he'd arrived with a sort of seriousness within him. And Rachel could tell.

"You okay?" She asked, unable to keep the suspicion out of her voice. Probably thought something bad had happened when it was the complete opposite.

"Yeah, I'm fi—good. I'm good," Malakai nodded.

"Good?" Rachel repeated, eyes wide. She'd never heard that from Malakai before. "Is there a reason why?"

Malakai shrugged, though a smile appeared on his face before he could stop it, "I just...have a new friend." He remembered Abby, "Two, maybe."

Rachel smiled softly, "That sounds great. Who are they?"

"Mike," Malakai told her. He chuckled at the expression on Rachel's face. An expression that said, took you long enough to figure it out. And yes, it had taken Malakai too long to realise that people, including Mike, could actually care about him. The next name he said made him shift in his seat; he realised how immature it sounded to name a child as his friend, but decided to do it anyway, "And Abby. She's Mike's younger sister, she's ten years old."

Malakai expected a scoff or at least a flicker of amusement, maybe disgust, in Rachel's eyes. Of course, that didn't happen—the woman had never once been rude to him.

Instead, she smiled wider, "That's so sweet. I'm glad you're making friends, Malakai."

"Yeah, me too," He allowed himself to grin.

"So, what about your self harm? Have you stayed clean?" Rachel asked, back to business. Their usual checklist was in her hand, ready to be handed over.

"Uh, yeah, actually," Malakai realised suddenly. He frowned, thinking for a few moments. Surely, he'd done it and forgotten, right? He glanced down at his wrist: only deep, red scars. He looked back up at Rachel, his eyes wide, "Yeah, I've—I'm a week clean."

Rachel gasped in delight, clapping her hands together, "Oh, Malakai, that's brilliant!"

"Yeah, it is," Malakai nodded and ducked his head shyly. He wasn't good at receiving praise—probably because he rarely got it.

"Here," Rachel tossed the man a chocolate bar, "It was supposed to be for my lunch but you deserve it more."

Malakai managed to catch it and let out a snort of amusement, "You never told me I get chocolate. If you did, I would've tried harder."

"Well, you should be trying your best, anyway," Rachel told him in a firm tone for a second before her smile returned, and she handed him the checklist. Malakai filled it out quickly and once he handed it back to her, Rachel's smile turned into a grin, "Aw, Malakai, you're doing great."

Malakai smiled, growing sheepish under her praise again. He supposed that he had been doing great but it wasn't a statement he'd make himself. His mood had increased, sure, and he hadn't self harmed, and he had made two new friends (he shook his head before the self-critical thoughts sunk in at those three words) but he was waiting for the inevitable badness again. He was waiting for his friends to hate him, he was waiting for the cutting to increase, he was waiting for the outbursts and the pain again. He knew he should tell Rachel that but he decided to keep his mouth shut.

"Alright," Rachel said as she set the checklist to the aide, "Is there anything you want to discuss this session?"

Malakai shrugged. He couldn't think of anything and often, when he did, he deemed it unimportant. But for once, something popped into his head. He hesitated for a moment, shoved the insecure thoughts to the back of his mind, then nodded.

"You know that thing you told me to do? With the numbers?" He waited for his therapist to nod before continuing, "Well, I got angry yesterday and I tried that and it worked. I mean, obviously it would because you're a therapist and you know best but...Yeah, just thought you might want to know."

"I do want to know, thank you for telling me," Rachel nodded, "But the thing is, Malakai, I don't know what's best. You know what's best, I just give you things which I think might help you. And I'm glad it did, but if you need anything else, please let me know."

Malakai smiled at that. He growing more comfortable now, which he figured had to happen sooner or later. Maybe, if it had been sooner, he wouldn't still be in therapy. But his entire life, he'd been denied anything he wanted, told that it was wrong, that it was sinful—so he'd simply learned to shut up. However, after two years, and the fact he was making progress again after his temporary relapse, Malakai actually felt...hopeful. Somehow, in his mind, he knew he could get better. And that he'd try, no matter what.

"Do you have any ways I can cope if I feel the need to harm myself? I know you gave me a few a while back but I forgot them," Malakai said. He'd been given the coping mechanisms and they'd worked, which was how he managed to stay clean for a little while, but then he'd had no use for them anymore, and they were shoved to the back of his mind, buried with all of his traumas.

"Yeah, of course. I'll write them down for you," Rachel said as she grabbed a piece of paper and a green pencil. As she spoke, she jotted down the same points, "We figured out that the reason you self harm is because you struggle to cope with your feelings after being taught to repress them as a child. So, when you feel a negative emotion, your first instinct is to bury it and when that doesn't work, you harm yourself to get those emotions out. Because of this, you need ways to cope with these emotions. If you're feeling sad, you can call someone and wrap yourself up in a warm blanket, it'll be like a comforting hug. It's very important that you let yourself cry, Malakai. It's not weak or bad, like you've been taught, but if it still feels that way, you can sit in a dark room and play music in your headphones. That way you'll be crying but you won't be able to see or hear yourself cry."

Rachel stretched her wrist for a moment before continuing, "If you're angry, you can try physical exercise, like going for a run or a walk. You could shout or punch a pillow—you know, instead of a wall. Even if none of this works and it results in you breaking things, like your paintings, I know you do that often; well, it's better than hurting yourself."

Malakai nodded, taking the list she held out off of her, "Thanks, Rachel. I'll try it."

"And that's all you can do," Rachel smiled reassuringly at him. Then, her eyes widened and she pulled a thick elastic band off of her wrist before handing it out to him, "Oh! Also, I have an idea of something else that might work. If you wear this elastic band, you can flick it against your skin anytime you get the urge. It's still harming you, of course, but it's not permanent and less harmful."

The woman was strangely rubbing her wrist where the band had been, mind slightly preoccupied as she spoke. Eventually, she pulled her hand away and Malakai caught sight of something shocking. Something that had been, purposefully, hidden away form him and everyone else Rachel had encountered.

There, on her wrist, was a deep, white scar.

author notes.
the day i wrote this chapter i was also a week clean so yay to both me and malakai!!! 🎉🎉🎉 if u struggle with s/h i hope these coping mechanisms help u, some of them i use myself and some of them i found online.
also sorta short chapter compared to others cause ive been giving u hella long chapters recently but im at school again now rip so i'm going back to 1k-1.5k chapters bc it's easier for me to write & update consistently :)