Tuesday, September 27th.....

"How have you been sleeping?"

I fold my hands in my lap, only to unfold them and fiddle with one of the leather braided bracelets on my right wrist. My eyes flicker around the room, never landing on something longer than a few seconds, and never meeting Mrs. Waver's gaze.

"Um, not too well, I guess."

I shift my feet, moving my eyes to stare down at them. She makes a humming noise in the back of her throat, writing something down on her clipboard.

"And do you know why that is?"

I slowly shake my head, staring back down at my hands as I clinch them into fists.

Just that I feel, like, if I let my guard down, for even a second, if I close my eyes, I might either end up back with Razim, or back underground doing Ben's bidding again.

A small shudder runs up my spine with the thought, a faint burst of air escaping my mouth as my chest squeezes. My hand automatically reaches up to rub my chest, only for me to quickly lower it back down once I see Mrs. Waver watching me from the corner of my eye.

Always watching.

She leans back, switching her legs so her left leg now rests over her right. "Would you like that to be the topic of our discussion today?" She questions, doing one of her tactics that's 'supposed' to make the victom feel more in control over the situation.

Not for me.

She takes my silence as an answer. "Alright, well, we'll come back to that topic next time and see if we can't get that figured out." She smiles out of the corner of my eye, still trying to make me look at her.

If I do, she'll see just how exhausted I really am.

If I'm being honest with myself, I'm beginning to realize I might, actually, just need to get help with this whole sleeping problem. I feel like a haven't slept a wink all week, not to mention all the extra stress school is bringing on....Something else I can't get myself to tell anything to anyone about.

The depression definitely has something to do with it, but I get the feeling it's more than that; I'm genuinely scared to fall asleep. And that realization is worse than the actual diagnosis.

I can't even count how many times I've stayed awake, pacing in my room, this week, only to jolt awake, what feels like minutes later, sitting on the sofa downstairs in the living room, Lucy standing over me with concern etched into her face.

A look I'm, once again, getting annoyed at. I don't deserve it.

I'm starting to think just how much easier it would be, for everyone, if everything would. Just. Stop.

"How has school been?"

I shrug, glancing up at her before looking away. "It's school." Even as I say it, I know it's more than I'm making it out to be. I just don't want everyone to think I'm even more of a failure than they already know.

What would they think of me, an x-spy, who's been tortured and kidnapped, twice, if they knew I couldn't even handle school anymore?

Pathetic. As usual.

I almost flinch at the sudden words my subconscious decided to send up, simply resorting to locking my jaw and clinching my hands tighter until I can feel my nails piercing my skin. Then I squeeze tighter, letting the brief period of pain distract me.

"I hear you'll be starting soccer again. How do you feel about that?"

I move my right shoulder in a half shrug, not really sure how to answer. "I don't know. At the moment I don't really feel anything." I dig my nails harder into my skin, the notion reminding me that I, at least, do feel pain.

She nods. "That's understandable seeing as you're in a depression period," she says, not letting her blurt-out-everything-I-think reputation down unlike the usual therapists that try to sugarcoat everything.

Not finding any suitable words at the moment, I just shrug again.

"How about we work on broadening that answer some?"

*Time Skip*

I stare down at my barely touched gravy and mashed potatoes, the hunk of chicken not faring much better. I move my fork around so it looks like I'm at least 'attempting' to eat, the air around me heavy.

Don clears his throat from my left, but I don't look up. "Mack tells us you'll be joining him for soccer practice tomorrow." I can feel his gaze move between me and Lucy, unsure if he might've said something wrong.

And again with the walking on eggshells around me tactic.

My fist tightens around the handle of the fork, and I let a slow breath out through my nose.

"Yeah," I answer, finding my voice thicker and a bit harsher than I intended, undoubtedly due to the grueling therapy session I was already forced to endure no more than two hours ago.

They both seem to hint my hostile and noncommittal attitude, but Don forges on.

"We're glad you decided to do it. I'm sure it'll help-"

I don't let him finish.

I practically slam the fork down next to my plate as I simultaneously stand up, shocking both of them into silence. I meet both of their gazes for a split second, then I look down.

"May I be excused?" I glance down at my plate when Lucy gives it a questioning look, before looking away. "I'm not hungry."

They both look hesitant. "Alright, if you're sure you can't eat anymore. . ." Lucy trails off, clearly disappointed. My chest tightens at the surge of guilt that hits me, and I suddenly can't wait to escape.

I clear my things from the table, shoving my hands in my pockets as I head for the door that leads to outside.

"Where are you going?"

I pause at Lucy's question. "Outside for a walk." I refrain from looking over my shoulder at them, sure I'll fine disappointment on each of their faces from my lack of wanting to spend quality time with them.

"Okay, a breath of fresh air always does a man some good," Don supplies, and I hear his chair creek as he leans back. "Just be careful and don't stay out after dark."

I nod, then I'm stepping out into the fresh air, immediately feeling a cool breeze of air tickle my bare face. I hesitate before stepping off the porch, wondering if I might need my jacket seeing as I'm only wearing three-quarter sleeves.

I shrug to myself, stepping off onto the grassy ground. Picking up my pace, I head down towards the field Mack, Polly, and I escaped through not too long ago. Climbing over the gate, I land with both feet down on the opposite side, feeling a jolt go up my legs from the landing.

Stuffing my hands back in my pockets, I walk down the path I've slowly begun to wear down from my many walks, focusing on taking slow and even breaths to help keep any pressing thoughts from invading my mind.

But that only lasts, about, one minute.

I think back to the crestfallen expressions on both Lucy and Don's faces, feeling more than ashamed at behaving like that. But ever since I've been back from the underground, I can't help but feel I've become more moody than usual. . .Well, usual for me that is.

I rub my tired eyes with my fists, wishing I could physically remove the heavy weight that's been pressing down on my chest for, what feels like, forever, but knowing it's not as simple as that. It never is.

Kicking a pebble with the toe of my shoe, I draw out a long sigh, looking up at the waning sunlight in the distance.

Sudden flashes from my past; explosions, red hair going up in flames, blue eyes fading to nothing, walls collapsing, a blood stained whip, feral eyes, screams and shouts from hundreds of watching people, bullets sinking into flesh, a van wrecking, soulless eyes looking up at me as I press the trigger on a gun, all flash before my eyes in less than a second.

I suck in a harsh breath, literally stopping in place as my chest abruptly grows five times heavier. A crushing sensation cripples me, and I have to gasp to draw in a single breath. My heart thunders in my ears, and I can feel my pulse beating erratically in the veins of my clenched fists.

Knowing what's happening, but powerless to stop it completely, I bend over, gripping my knees as I stare at the dirt-covered ground, focusing on my breathing and my nails digging into my knees to keep me grounded.

I don't know how much time goes by before I'm capable of standing up straight without making the world spin like a top, my breathing easier as the muscles in my chest relax to a certain extent.

I run a shaky hand through my hair, the panic I'd been feeling, just seconds ago, suddenly dissolving and being replaced by a red hot anger. I let an uncharacteristic yell of frustration out, slamming my right fist into the nearest tree.

White hot pain instantly explodes outwards from my throbbing and split knuckles, up to my shoulder, wiping away the last few traces of anxiety the low-key panic attack had left behind. My fist remains pressed up to the sharp bite of the bark while I simply stand there, shoulders heaving as I breathe harshly through my mouth.

I almost feel relieved when I realize all my thoughts have disappeared to the dark recess of my mind, the pressure in my chest, for the first time in weeks, almost completely gone.

Drawing my still throbbing fist back, I use my other hand to absentmindedly rub it, ignoring the slivers of pain still residing in it. Clenching my jaw, I turn around, hardly believing what I'm about to go ask.

I thought I'd promised myself I'd leave that part of me in the past.

Making my way back up the trail to find Don, a small flutter of dread and, possibly, hope, blooms inside me.

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A/N

And I is back! Sorry, once again, for lagging on the update! I've been busy trying to write some chapters for my neglected Chronicles of Orelon book. Sorry. 🤗 And Yes, I know that was a short chapter, but hey, it's something.

So, what's this idea Alex has? Can you see his sudden outburst he had with the poor tree leading to something bad? What are your thoughts?

VOTE!! 30 ⭐️⭐️ before I update again!! Y'all are amazing btw! 😃 Comment!!

Ttfn,
Maggy