believe

15. therapy

"Mrs Chloe Mitchell?" A blonde lady comes up to me, her hand stretched out for my to shake. I slowly put my hand in hers, nervous. "Hi, I'm Kate. I believe you're here because your wife booked you in?" She smiles.

I nod hesitantly. "Yeah." Kate grins and leads me to her office. "So, Mrs Mitchell..sorry, do you prefer Chloe or Mrs Mitchell?" She asks. "Ah, Chloe please."

"Alright. So, I just want you to know that whatever you say stays in here. I won't judge you for anything, I promise." She tells me.

I bite my lip nervously and the second I sit down, my leg starts bouncing up and down. "Okay."

"Erm, your wife also told me about what's happened over the last couple of years and we both agreed that it's best if you see someone."

"She did?"

"It was for the best, Chloe.

"..okay."

"Is there...anything you want to talk about? Sometimes it's better when things come to light."

"I guess I keep having nightmares and flashbacks to when I was..shit, sorry." I feel tears starting to pour down my face. "You need a tissue?"

I nod, and Kate passes me a tissue. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be! It's fine, just take your time. Whenever you're ready."

"Okay..basically, the nightmares and the flashbacks are usually about like..my attempts and when I was assaulted."

"That must have been awful."

"It really was. I keep reliving the worst moments in my life and it's terrifying. They feel so real."

"Gosh."

"And the worst part is, I still haven't figured out who they were."

"Who?"

"The person that assaulted me."

"Oh."

"I just remember them being pretty pale and having a slightly higher than average voice."

"You couldn't see their face?"

"No. They had a mask on."

"Did you notice anything else? Like, a tattoo or a birth mark?"

"Erm..they had a date on their collarbone."

"What was the date?"

"May 14th, 2015."

Kate quickly scribbled the date on the back of her hand. "Okay. Did you go to the police about this?" I shook my head in response. "Oh. Well, I'll get in contact with the authorities and we will get you justice. Was there anything else significant about his appearance?"

"He had a scar on his arm. But there's no point of going to the police. It's been a long time since it happened." I muttered. Kate sighed and looked me dead in the eyes. "Chloe, it's still necessary. If he doesn't get caught now, think of all the other people that could have the same experience as you. He needs to be arrested. It's for everyone's safety, and you can be sure he won't come back."

I nodded and looked down. "Okay."

"Good. Now, about the attempts. I understand this is a sensitive topic, so..just let me know when you want to stop. But I do have a couple questions for you. You attempted the first time when you were in high school, yes?"

"Yeah."

"Do you remember why?"

"I struggled with body dysmorphia. And I started to cut myself. Everything started to get worse, I constantly just..felt like I wasn't enough. So I decided to take my own life."

"But, clearly, the attempt failed. Who saved you?"

"My best friend, Aubrey."

"Do you remember what happened when she found you?"

"Well, I was unconscious but I remember when I woke up,"

Flashback:

I slowly opened my eyes to the sounds of sirens and crying. I looked around and saw Aubrey in the back of an ambulance, sobbing and holding onto my hand like she could never let go. "You- You're awake!" She smiled. "W-What happened?"

"I have no idea Chloe. I just saw an empty box of promethazine next to you." She muttered. The memories came flooding back to me. I'd tried to kill myself, hadn't I?

A single tear escaped my eye and Aubrey's eyes widened. "Are you alright? Oh, Chloe, it's okay."

"No...No, it's not." I whispered. "Why is it not okay, sweetheart?" She asked. "Because what I did isn't okay. I-I don't even wanna tell you."

A paramedic looked up and bit his lip in concentration. "Kid, you didn't try to...do anything stupid, did you?" He asked. I nodded silently as more tears rolled down my cheeks. "I did." I said, my voice cracking and barely above a whisper. "God. And you're just a teenager."

Aubrey looked at me, fear creeping across her face. "What do you mean? What-"

"I...I tried to overdose, Aubrey." I mumbled. She gasped and began to cry again, her hands shaking rapidly. "I'm sorry. Bree, I'm so, so sorry."

"No, sweetie, you have nothing to be sorry for. I'm sorry you felt like you had to...do that. I could have lost you, Chloe. I already don't have any siblings, and you felt like a sister to me. I-I don't think I could live with that."

I smiled sadly and squeezed her hand. "That's why I'm sorry. I couldn't let you live with the guilt."

End of flashback:

"Oh gosh. Uh..what about the second attempt? Do you remember anything about that?"

Flashback:

Beca ran through the door and stopped when she saw me. I'd fell to the floor and dropped the empty bottle of pills. The new cuts on my arms hurt like crazy, and all I could whisper was, "Hey baby."

Beca gasps and her eyes widen. "Oh sweet Jesus." She mumbles. She comes a little bit closer, then moves back and says something to what sounds like Emily. Beca spins back around before kneeling down next to me and taking my hand. "Chloe, sweetie, can you tell me what..you did with the paracetamol?" She asks quietly.

"I-I took them. All. It was half full." I whisper, looking at the empty bottle and biting my lip. "Oh. I think we need to call an ambulance, darling."

I shake my head. "Don't do that. I'm fine." My eyes begin to droop and my body starts feeling heavy. "I can't not call an ambulance, Chloe." Beca says, taking her phone out of her pocket and dialling 911 quickly.

"Rebeca, don't waste their time. Just leave me here. I'll get up in a minute..." I mumbled, trying to sit up. I quickly leant over the toilet before throwing up, then everything went black.

------

I woke up in the hospital, alarms blaring and people rushing around me. I looked out the door and saw Beca. She looked distraught. I felt horrible. Then I saw Aubrey panicking next to her, holding onto Stacie's arm. Stacie kept biting her lip like she was forcing her tears back. Emily was there too. She looked like she'd seen a ghost, the colour was drained from her face and her eyes were wide. She barely looked like she was breathing.

A doctor noticed I was awake and sighed with what I can only assume was relief. "Why am I in the hospital?" I asked. I could barely remember what had happened. Now I know, obviously.

"Oh. You had a failed suicide attempt."