"Mom!" I gave out sounding very much like a teenager.
My mother gave me an apologetic look. "Sorry, baby," she murmured patting my hands that were crossed in my lap. I rolled my eyes, not helping any. Doctor Leslie turned her big eyes on me. "Is this true, Sunn?" she implored. I looked away from her stance.
I couldn believe I shared something in confidentiality to my mother only for her to bring it up in my next therapy session. So much so for trust. Watch me never tell her anything ever again.
Moms hand came to rest on the leg of my pants. She had on her anxious to please face and I almost melted. I knew she was only trying to help, but she made it worse. I didn want every piece of my life displayed in our therapy sessions. I craved privacy. I wanted some part of me to feel normal.
Doctor Leslie cleared her throat, deciding it best to change the topic. Despite her efforts, she mirrored whatever she was feeling on her face. She had the gall to pity me. I knew she couldn help me. Mom was paying her ridiculously just for her to make assumptions and issue out fake diagnoses. She was a charlatan, no better than the common thief.
Mom was so desperate in her quest to find me assistance that she readily believed anything Doctor Leslie uttered from her overly botoxed lips. Mom went crazy filling prescription after prescription. It pained my heart when she went broke trying to make sure I was okay. But the pills didn work. If they did, they lasted for no more than a couple of hours. Even weed had a more poignant effect. I needed a permanent fix or something that didn wear off in mere hours.
The rest of my session went how it always had- with Doctor Leslie rattling off something from a philosopher that wasn linked to me or anything I was going through. Mom soaked in everything she was saying like a sponge. My mother was encouraged to double the number of crystals she had around the house and to burn sage as often as three times a week. At times I felt like a demon that Doctor Leslie couldn get rid of.
I sat purse-lipped throughout the entire ordeal. I was already stiff bored. I thumbed through Twitter looking for a distraction. I didn want to hurt Mom, so I still accompanied her every other Tuesday. She was already trying so the least I could do was show up.
"Now, Lisa, this is a stronger dose than what I gave Sunn the week before. See if it helps." I rolled my eyes as Mom accepted the white envelope from Doctor Leslies plump fingers, thanking her profusely. Some things never change. I was the first to leave the room. My long legs carried me fast down the flight of stairs and into Moms BMW.
I released the breath I hadn known I was holding and waited for Mom to get in the car. As soon as she did, I started the car and headed in the direction of Starbucks. Doctor Leslie with all her crap always worked up an appetite within me.
Mom opened her mouth to say something but one glare from me silenced her. I wasn in the mood. She always tried to talk to me after our therapy sessions since it was recommended by the great Doctor Leslie. "Talking would help you to understand how Sunny feels." I would bet my last dollar that even her PHD was fake. I scoffed.
I pulled up to the Starbucks drive thru window and placed my order. Mom said she wasn hungry so I let her be. I didn have the strength to force her to eat today.
In the solitude of our home, Mom excused herself to go to the kitchen. Cooking was therapeutic for her. And her meals were always scrumptious and delightful. I went up to my room with my Starbucks drink in my hand sipping away.
With my favorite YouTuber, Gina Jyneen, playing in the background; I started getting my documents ready for work when I felt a sharp throbbing at the back of my head. I winced my eyes shut willing the pain to go away. Of course, it didn . Tears travelled the length of my cheeks as the aching continued. I gripped the side of my sofa, my feet wobbling beneath me. What was happening to me?
My feet buckled underneath me, and I pooled to the floor of my room in a mess. Paralyzed with fear. My breathing became labored and slow and shallow. I laid there fighting to breathe, not able to feel my feet. But I knew I had to fight it somehow. I wouldn allow whatever it was to win.
Mustering up the last of my strength I pushed myself along the cream tiled ground. My main aim was to get to my bed. My purse should be sprawled somewhere on there. I fished around, hoping to feel the circular bottle in my palms.
With hands shaking, I dribbled four tiny capsules into my open mouth. I swallowed. This should help. But, boy, was I wrong. My body immediately went into shock convulsing wildly. I thrashed about on the cold ground, mouth foaming at the side. A million nos raced around in my chaotic mind. But deep within I could hear something screaming acidly. Struggling to break free. I don know what happened or how it happened, but it always seemed to triumph.
I realized that now. There was no stopping it. As long as I breathed it would always be apart of me. Struggling to break free at every chance it could. Leaving me in the sea of my own subconscious while it went on a wild rampage. It took me this long to realize that I was cursed. Damned to whatever it was I became when I wasn myself.
"Therapy can save you. No one can," the voice inside of me whispered in a calm tone. I was surprised when a wave of serenity washed over me. "Child, this is a gift. Embrace it and we can be oh so powerful."
Powerful was the last word I remembered before my entire world went dark.