February:
2/25/2010
Dear Journal,
Today was the first day of many unwelcoming days, that I was forced to talk to a counselor. Her name was Mr.Gray. She asked stupid mind twisting questions that made me upset.
Like: “When was the first time you cut?”
I answered her questions by giving her an uncontrollable silence strike that would have driven anyone Insane and followed that by a lack of eye contact.
I knew why they made me upset.. i just... hated going back to the past, remembering the same old things over and over and re opening unhealed scars.
So i stayed silent for every session we had.
I watched the white walls, the black carpet floors, the picture's of smiling fake children, but mostly the counselors swift nervous movements as she furiously scribbled in her notebook. I only had an hour with Ms. Gray, but that hour seemed like years, the time just couldn’t pass soon enough. The “ticking” Of the broken clock didn’t make it any better.
After the sessions were over Rida would always wait for me by the door, overflowing me with details of her day. Also since I was a beginner I couldn't walk anywhere without a nurse or a person whom was in the “advanced class”. Rida volunteered to take walk me around. I’m glad she did because, Rida was the only person that talked to me.
The only person that seemed sane.
I was laying in bed looking up at the celling when Rida asked: ”What’s it like to be out there?” A sad, broken look to hold of her face when i looked over.
I heard the door open over and over again.
Click.
“Check.”
Click.
“Check”
Click.
“Check”
Click.
I looked Rida in the eyes and replied. “It's hell out there.” Then i fell asleep to the soundof...
Click.
“Check”
Click.
“Check."
Click...
~From a lost,
Ivy Howard.
YOU ARE READING
Inside The Mind Of Ivy Howard
Teen FictionA young girl named Ivy Howard whom is seeking for help, but instead of talking to someone she writes all of her problems in a journal, hoping that if anything happens to her someone would stubble upon it and find out the real truth.
