Silenced

Chapter 35- For The Better

Chapter 35

For The Better

Kaiser Donovan

Ms. McCain sat across from me, watching me with a small smile on her face.

"Your father said that you talked to him today? Is that right?" She asked.

I hadn't even realized. It just happened and it was barely a sentence, I thought but nodded slowly anyway.

She nodded as well and wrote something down in her notes. She did that a lot, more than usual. Maybe it was because there was actually things going on. I chewed on the inside of my bottom lip, debating on whether I could knowingly speak. I closed my eyes and imhaled softly.

I want to get better, I thought. I hated having the thought because I coukd never go through with it. I never managed to pull myself through it, the fear of what would happen if I had. I opened one eye. Ms. McCain hadn't looked up. So that hadn't worked. How'd I do it before? I felt like a baby learning how to talk but worse since I already knew how.

I want to be better!, I shouted in my thoughts. Still, my mouth didn't open and Ms. McCain didn't look up. I deflated slightly, leaning back from my seat at the edge of the sofa. I ran my hand through my hair, playing with the ends. This was harder than I had hoped it would be, than I wanted it to be. Most of the time, I tell myself that this quiet, this silence, was to protect the people around me. To protect my dad, to protect August, and to protect myself. But I was starting to wonder if it really was or if I just let myself think that it was.

"Kai, what's on your mind? Talk to me, I want to help." She asked.

I felt like it was a joke. Like I was being taunted because she knew that I wouldn't talk. I scoffed out loud which made Ms. McCain raise her brow. She started writing in her notes again. I'd never realized how annoying that was until today. 

"Did I say something to offend you?" She asked.

I rolled my eyes mentally and looked down at the table between us.

Talk to me.

I rolled my eyes again, crossing my arms over my chest. What was even the point of this therapy? A bunch of thoughts ran through my head. I thought about one of my first sessions with Ms. McCain. She had told me that  victims find their own ways of coping with their pain and that this was mine. But I didn't think it was, I had to stay quiet. It wasn't a choice for me. At least, I thought it wasn't. I refocused back into my present situation. I was in this. I wanted to get better. And there was only one way to do that.

"I want to get better." I said quickly. It was quiet, so quiet and so fast that even I had barely heard it. But this time I was sure that I had.

Ms. McCain nodded and wrote something down. I wasn't expecting a standing ovation but just a little acknowledge of what I'd managed to do would have been nice. It wasn't my best moment but I pouted. I crossed my arms over my chest and pouted. I wondered if she hadn't heard but she'd nodded.

A few minutes had passed before she could be bothered to respond.

"How do you think that you will get better? What will it take?" She asked me.

I stopped to think about it. What would it take?

I spent the rest of the session sitting in silence. I thought about the text messages between August and I. I thought about hugging him. I thought about how I wanted that. To be with him, to be happy with him. To have a normal life. I smiled to myself. I knew what it would take, I knew what it was worth. And I knew that it was worth it.

Ms. McCain's conversation with my father was happier than usual. For once, he didn't sound angry or sad. It made me happy to be a source of something positive in him.

In my father's car, I checked my phone. I turned it on, like I usually did after a session since I had to turn it off before. I saw the newest messages from August.

August: Of course I read it. I've got a lot to say.

August: Don't worry, it's all good things. Mostly anyway.

August: Did I manage to scare you off?

August: I feel like I've sent too many messages and I'm kind of spiraling so help me out there.

The last message was sent only 15 minutes ago. I opened the chat and responded to him.

Me: Don't worry, you haven't run me off. Not yet anyway.

I joked with him. He responded almost immediately.

August: So it would seem.

Me: Sorry for disappearing. I had some place to be. My phone was off.

August: It's no biggie. You're back now.

August: Not that it wasn't okay that you were gone or anything. It's not like I own you.

August: And I'm doing it again. My rambling. I'm just going to apologize now.

I laughed at his messages. At this point, I was in my bedroom. My dad went to order some food. We had takeout every other day. He would try to cook sometimes.

Me: It's okay. Rambling means you care.

August: Really? I must really care then.

Me: Yea, I guess so.

August: I know you can't tell but I'm smiling a lot right now.

Me: I know you can't tell but so am I.

The night went on like this until my father called to tell me that the food had arrived. I went downstairs, got my food, came right back up, amd continued what I was doing. I liked the feeling that went through me while I was here, in this moment.

As I ate and texted, only one thought went through my mind.

It was definitely worth it.

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The End Is Near!

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8/16/18