Hiding Behind A Mask | ✔

C H A P T E R T H R E E

My mom pulls up in the driveway of our house and turns off the engine. I shrug one trap to my bookbag on my shoulder, getting ready to leave when she puts a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. I turn my head to look at her, to see the serious expression she usually gave me when I've done something wrong, but I've done nothing wrong.

"Annie, I know it's your first day back to school- in high school, and also the day you've decided to wear a... mask," she starts and I stare at her with furrowed eyebrows, wanting to know where she's going with this. "This morning, seeing you wear a mask broke my heart, even now. So while I was at work, I've been doing a lot of thinking because I'm worried seeing you like this, and so I came up with one solution to help you..." she pauses, seeming to be fighting with herself on how to say it, then she speaks loud and clear, "...Therapy."

As she said the word, my vision got blurry with tears. How could she? Does she think I have a mental problem or something? Everything that happened to me back in 8th-grade, she knows about it... Everything. So why would she? 

She struck something in me, my heart, maybe...? Yeah, it's definitely my heart.

I roughly open the car door and run to the door of the house, holding the key in my hand as I try to open the door with my blurry eyes. I hear her calling my name, and I finally open the door, running up the stairs to my bedroom. I lock the door behind me as I got inside and lean against it, sliding down until I hit the floor.

Therapy...

The word just keeps repeating in my mind as the tears start streaming down my face. I take off the mask and rest it on the floor beside me, wiping my tears away with my hand.

I heard a knock on the door but didn't get up to open it or speak in reply, I just keep on crying.

"Sweetheart, I know you're upset, but I'm trying to do what's best for you. It's either you just walk around with that mask on your face every day or I try to do something about it," she says with a sigh then she spoke in a cracked voice, "I'm just trying to help you..."

We stood in silence for a few minutes, my tears drying up, hearing the soft sobs of her voice. My mom has been through a lot, divorcing my father, and him leaving us when I was seven for another woman, and during all of that, she has been crying a lot. A few years later, she got over the whole thing; no more crying, no more thinking of him. So hearing her cry over this situation has my heart clenching in my chest.

"The therapist will be here waiting for you when you come home from school tomorrow. I'm sorry, but I'm doing what's best for you," she tells me and after a few seconds, I hear the footsteps as she walks away from my bedroom door, leaving me all alone.

~ ~ ~

School has ended quickly, which resulted in me having to come home to see a therapist sitting in the living room waiting for me. Mom didn't pick me up from school because she has decided to finish work early and come back just in time to meet the therapist, so I had to call an uber, which was awkward when the uber driver tried making small talk and almost stared at my mask the whole drive.

I sit on a couch along with the therapist on the other end, her laptop, and notepad sitting in the middle, separating us. I lean back into the pillows of the couch, not facing the therapist who stares at me with observing eyes. After a long time of staring, she finally breaks the silence.

"Hello, Annie. My name is Christine, and I think I'm going to be your therapist for a while..." she tells me, but I just stare at the bouquet of flowers sitting in front of me, wanting to go to my room where my comfort zone is.

"So let's start with a question," she says. "Why have you decided to wear a mask?"

Again, we go back into silence as she waits for me to answer her question. She waits patiently for me to say something, but the thing is that I'm not going to say anything, so I guess we're going to stay this way for a long, long time.

"Here," Christine hands me her notepad and pen. Her hand hanging in the air as I stare at it. "Since you're not going to talk, I want you to write down anything in reply to my questions. It would also be easier for me to take notes."

I take it and think back to the question she asked earlier. With a lot of thinking, I jot down my answer on the notepad.

Because I don't want to be seen.

I give the notepad back to her and watch as she reads it slowly and carefully. She looks up at me sadly, and I turn my head away, not wanting to see the pity in her eyes.

"Why do you not want to be seen? I'm sure everyone would love to see your beautiful face," she says and I frown, taking the notepad out of her hand.

Not everyone would like to see my face. I'm... horrible, and I've been told that before. Blue eyes that are always glossy with dark shades of circles around them from the lack of sleep, and crying at night. Blonde hair that used to be very healthy, but is now not being taken care of very well. I think they have a right to call me that word; horrible.

I don't want to be seen because that's what people want. They don't want to see me ever. They don't want to know that I exist.

* * *

A/N:

I hope you enjoyed this chapter!  Do you think Christine will be able to help Annie? Maybe, maybe not...

Please give this chap a vote and leave your comments :)

- Tanya <3