01 | Thread of Hope

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Who put the world on my backand not in my hands

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Who put the world on my back
and not in my hands. Just give me a chance
— Exhale by Sabrina Carpenter

It was a fine day in New York City, the sky a beautiful, cloudless baby-blue

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It was a fine day in New York City, the sky a beautiful, cloudless baby-blue. The heavy night's rain had washed every sidewalk and gutter clean, and a trace of freshness lingered in the air despite the traffic fumes.

New York City, the place a lot of people aspired to be in to live out their Sex and the City dreams. It was this magnificent city that my mother moved me to at the age of ten. This was where I spent ten years of my life, but I was now desperate to leave.

I convinced myself that it was because I wanted to start anew. But who was I kidding? I loved this place. I simply detested the painful memories it brought me.

I watched as a few rays of sunshine seeped through the glass windows and rested across the glossy tiled floor like sweet honey. The light reflected onto several objects in the room, showing the beauty of their many hues that were psychologically meant to relax a person's mind. This was the only room aside from my bedroom where I allowed myself to shatter entirely, where my emotions spilled unkempt for a thousand times in the last eight months, and where the shed of tears were not only from grief but also from the constant excruciating self-questioning of what if's.

Perhaps, I was going to miss this place.

Undoubtedly, I was going to miss Marge, my therapist.

"Summer, it's been two months since we've stopped your medication," she said, and I turned to meet her scrutinizing gaze. "How have you been doing?" she asked, smiling.

"I haven't had any trouble sleeping."

"And the nightmares?"

I gulped down the entire glass of water and settled it on the coffee table before answering her with a light shrug. "I haven't had one in a while."

It was two weeks after that day when I first visited Marge. Immediately, I insisted I didn't want any kind of medication. In my defense, I was terrified. I read the pamphlets and noticed how all of it caused side effects. However, she prescribed me sleeping pills a week after I began seeing her.

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