~Emmalyn~
Two days later they let me go home.
My mother didn’t speak at all during the car ride, leaving me with my thoughts, which was never a good thing. When we arrived home there was another car in the drive but I didn’t question it. I didn’t think to. But when I opened the door I was met with a surprise.
“Emma,” my father spoke out in relief. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a polo shirt. He swept me up in his arms. I hugged him back, but I felt troubled. Empty still, and I didn’t want him to see that. “How are you, sweetie?”
“Fine,” I mumbled. “A little tired. I think I’m going to go take a nap.”
He released me, plopping a kiss on my cheek. “Okay.”
“What are you doing home?”
He pursed his lips. “They gave me familial leave. I wasn’t just going to not come home, Emma. You’re my baby.”
I smiled bittersweetly. Sometimes I felt I didn’t deserve my amazing parents. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Of course.” He patted my back. “Now get upstairs if you’re ready. I’ll order out.”
I nodded, avoiding my mother’s gaze entirely as I loped up the stairs. The tears were burning at my eyes and leaking out before I could stop them. I entered my room, so consumed in my head and my own thoughts that I hadn’t known I was being followed.
“Emma.”
“Go away, Mom,” I blubbered, dragging my wrists furiously across my eyes. “I want to be alone.”
“I know.” My door clicked shut. “But you’re not.”
“Why?”
She stepped forward. “We’re going to talk.”
Last time she said that she had sent me to another therapist. “I don’t want to go back to Dr. Simmons. Or any other whacko. I’m fine.”
She shook her head. “I’m not taking you to see a therapist.”
I frowned. “Then why are you here?”
“I want to talk about you.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I snapped, harsher than intended. “I’m just a troubled freak who can’t get out of the past and has problems funneling her emotions in non-scarring ways.”
“Emma . . .”
“So I don’t see what there is to talk about.”
“I want to help you.”
“Help me?” I barked out dry laughter. “You can’t help me. You have no idea what I’m going through. I don’t feel like myself. I don’t even feel human half the time. It’s like there’s some other satanical demon inside of me controlling my every move. I don’t see how you can help me.”
She was oddly calm as she sat down beside me on my bed, smoothing out her jeans. “I think it’s time I told you the truth, Emma.”
My eyebrows dipped. “What are you talking about?”
“My past.” She knotted her fingers together. “You don’t know the whole story.”
“Yes I do. My grand-parents were cold-hearted pricks who put you through serious depression.”
She shook her head. “That’s not even half the truth.”
I folded my legs beneath me, listening.
YOU ARE READING
Over the Edge
Teen Fiction(TH#2)After a traumatic bullying experience and an almost fatal mistake, Emmalyn Hall moves with her family to Heart, North Carolina in hopes the same magic that healed her parents can possibly mend her as well. She moved to forget the memories of t...
