Wake (Sequel to CUT)

Chapter 8

Senna 

"Listen mom, I really don't need this right now," I try to tell her. My mom fingers clench till her knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. 

"Every time we make an appointment for you to go see a therapist you skip out on it." She says through her teeth. "Dr. Patel's office isn't open on Saturdays and that's the only day I can take you to make sure you go." 

I roll my eyes. 

"You could've went to a nice professional but the clinic is the only other place our insurance covers so I have to take you there." There's acid in her voice. 

My mom is so agitated with me. Sometimes I don't even feel like her daughter anymore, more like an obligation, like cleaning the bathroom or jury duty. 

"Well, how about we try not making go to therapy at all." I sneer. "I told you a billion times I don't need it. I'm fine!" 

My mom parks the car in front of the building. Then she turns to me and her eye go right down to the scars on my arms. There's a pained expression on her face. 

I look back at my mom and I take note of her blond hair with perfect highlights, her perfectly manicures fingernails that are probably identical to her toes, and her clear glowing skin that reflects all her spa treatments. On her face you can see her makeup is done to perfection not a smudge in sight, not that she needs makeup; her face is always clear and her bone structure is to be envied. The last thing I observe is her size: her figure is thin but not to the point of boniness.

We are exact opposites. 

Even though she wouldn't dare say it out loud, I know that my mom wanted me to look just like her and have the same interests as her. I must have some sort of genetic mutation I look almost nothing like her and I can't say that I share any interests with her other than breathing. 

"Just go," She sighs. 

I have to restrain myself from further arguments. My mother couldn't fix me herself so now she throwing me into an auto repair shop for imperfect teenagers.

I stare at her but she refuses to look at me. Just blankly staring in front of her she doesn't move. She doesn't even care.

Holding back tears I open the car door, step out, and slam it at as hard as I can behind me. I walk inside the clinic without turning back.

****

The lady they put me with is weird. She stares at me like she's known me her whole life.

"So your mom forced you to be here?" She asks, mulling over what I just said. I tried to explain to her that I didn't need any help and that my mom was just overreacting. 

I nod my head and feign exasperation. "Honestly... It's Sabrina right?"

Sabrina nods in affirmation and sits back in her chair. She continues to stare at me as if she's looking into the depths of my soul.

"Well Sabrina," I continue. "You have to understand, if anyone needs therapy, it's my mother. Sometimes I worry about her, it's like she acts like I'm the problem but it's really her who is hurting." I shake my head.

Sabrina continues to stare at me and I get the feeling I haven't convinced her yet. I need to step up my game. I stand up. "Do you have any water?" I try to look as thirsty and exhausted as I possibly can.

Sabrina motions to the water fountain in the corner of the room without saying anything. I grab a paper cup and pour myself some water. "She always makes me come to these therapists to get help. And I'm sure you're amazing at what you do. But I have seen tons of people and I think I can finally deal with my emotions and," I take a deep breath. "I really think things are changing for us."

Sabrina

This girl is trying really hard to trick me; and she's pretty good at it.

I see so much of myself in her. Especially from when I was her age, except, she has so much more confidence in herself. There's strength there that I could have only envisioned myself having, But the scars on her arms and sadness deep in her eyes show me that she's going through unimaginable pain.

She catches me looking at her arms. "Oh are you looking at my scars," Senna nods. "Yeah, I'll admit I used to cut myself but I've already gotten help." She looks into my eyes to see if i'm buying it. "I wear them in public as a sign of something I've overcome, that I'm no longer ashamed of. I no longer hide my pain."

She is so good. And I would've believed her too, if I hadn't been a cutter myself. I can distinguish the fresh cuts from the older ones and I can match them up with the pain in her eyes.

She doesn't know that she's speaking to the queen of pain.

I smile at her. "I'll see you next week Senna."

The look on her face tells me that she realizes she hasn't fooled me.

I can't wait to change this young lady's life.

*****************