This is a spin-off of several works I have completed or are currently underway.
This series of short stories will follow a few of my characters through the rehabilitation process until they have their moment of clarity.
Some issues dealt with in thi...
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"So how did the assignment go?" Alison asked.
I didn't respond, my gaze focused on the clock.
58 minutes until I was free.
"Lee's half went well," Parker said. "We went to the rescue center."
"You chose to go an animal rescue center, Lee?" Alison asked me.
Again, I didn't respond.
"He's been like this ever since," Parker said. "Won't talk, won't eat, and reluctantly takes his meds. I essentially have to force him to."
"Lee, I don't want to talk across you," Alison said. "Can you join us here for just a moment?"
My gaze remained fixated on the clock. 56 minutes to go.
Alison continued speaking when I didn't. "And how did your half go, Parker?"
"I wouldn't know. We didn't get to do it."
"Why's that?"
Parker gestured toward me. "Because he's been like this."
55 more minutes.
Alison handed me a sheet of paper and a box of colored pencils. "Try to put what you're feeling right now onto this sheet of paper."
I shoved it off to the side, folding my arms across my chest.
I was aware that I was acting like a spoiled brat, but all I wanted to do was go home.
Family therapy had done nothing but cause tension between Parker and me. Rehab had done nothing but agitate me. I wanted nothing to do with any of it anymore.
I'd been telling Parker that since I'd started this program. And I don't think he believed me.
He didn't believe that I truly wanted to be dead.
Maybe he thought it was just a phase.
Maybe he thought he could fix me.
Maybe he thought that I could fix myself.
I was too broken to be fixed, too tired to care enough to try anymore.
I just wanted to die.
"Do you want to talk about the self-harm?" Alison asked me.
I instinctively pulled down on the sleeves of my jacket, ignoring her question.
Alison took Parker over to her desk where they began to talk about me. I heard the words depression and regression their hushed whispers.
And then Alison left her office, leaving just Parker and me.
"She wants to admit you," Parker said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Either that or Baker Act you."
