Chapter 3

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Jamal's POV

I was seated in my therapist's office, clad in my school uniform, waiting for him to come in as soon as he was done attending to other patients. I looked around the white room, the walls pasted with posters on things that had to do with mental health stability and I rolled my eyes.

I'm not mad. I told myself, tried to assure myself.

But the self-doubt was still there. I have had several incessant episodes and I wouldn't blame my parents if they give up on me soon and place me in a psychiatric home. They have tried their best and I really wouldn't hold it against them.

They were better off without me.

The sound of the door opening jerked me out of my self-pity and I looked to see my therapist, Dr. Ahmad Faizal making his way to his seat, giving me his usual friendly smile which I returned with a blank expression.

"Good to see you again, Jamal." He said and I rolled my eyes.

"You saw me two Fridays ago, Faizal," I stated and he chuckled.

"Two weeks is enough to miss my favorite patient." He smirked and my lips quirked in a smile.

Since he became my therapist, Faizal had been like a big brother figure to me and has asked me to refer to him by his name. Being a very young doctor, we were able to relate on a personal level. Though sometimes he got on my nerves, I appreciated the fact that he was making so much effort to see me get better.

He opened my file and looked at me through his dark-rimmed glasses. "You had an attack last Thursday, early in the morning." He stated matter-of-factly and I shrugged, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't have an attack," I said. He removed his glasses and peered at me intently.

"Jamal, you come here every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning before going to school. Even if you didn't have an attack, you'd be here." He said and I sighed, looking down. He was right. That was the story of my life. He sighed and leaned forward. "How bad was it this time?" He asked.

"Just as worst as the previous ones. It happened from the nightmare again and this time it felt like I was being choked. I couldn't breathe. My mum cried again. Skye did too." I muttered, pain laced in my voice. I heard Faizal hume in response. I looked at him. "I'm causing them pain." But Faizal shook his head.

"No, Jamal..." He started but I interrupted him, looking at my shaking hands.

"They have dedicated their entire life to taking care of me and it's just a matter of time before they give up. I'm not the normal child that my parents wanted." I speedily wiped off the stray tears that had fallen from my eyes.

"You know, it's okay to cry right?" Faizal said but I shook my head.

"I wasn't crying." I denied and Faizal chuckled.

"Your parents are not complaining and I want you to know that. You are their son, it's their responsibility to take care of you no matter the ailment or sickness or disorder. They love you too much to just give up on you. That's why they are making this much effort" He explained.

"You are talking like it's normal. I have these attacks at least three times a week. It's embarrassing." I snapped.

"You have drugs to help calm your nerves. Also, you are very lucky to have the kind of sister and friends that you do. They are not ashamed of you." He admonished and I nodded in understanding, wiping the extra tears from my face.

"Continue living your life like a normal teenager, because you are normal. Keep doing your art and playing your music, play sports and involve yourself in athletics, flirt with girls even." I chuckled at that statement and he joined me.

𝐄𝐲𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 (𝙱𝚃𝚂 𝙵𝙰𝙼𝙸𝙻𝚈 𝚂𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂 #𝟺)Where stories live. Discover now