72 Hours - Dawn Leagers (me reader .TXT) 📗

“Have you even felt like your drowning but you’re still breathing?” I asked my therapist. “You can explain so I can understand?” she asked while typing something on her computer. “You’re living but you don’t feel like your living…” I began but stopped in mid sentence. “Living but not living?” she questioned me. 

“Yes” I answered and she gave me a blank stare asking me to explain myself. “Like your in a dream. Your life just doesn’t seem like its YOUR life” I explained again. “Why do you feel like you are in a dream?” she asked again trying to get more information out of me. “Like I have no control over anything that happens in my life. Just image you hovering over yourself and having no control” I said while laying down on the couch that sat across from her desk. “I can understand that.”

She said while finishing typing up what I just told her. “How?” I questioned her. “How can I understand what your going through?” she back.“Yes. How can someone like you possibly understand anything I’m going through?” I questioned in a more stern and kinda annoyed tone.

I looked into her eyes but didn’t say anything. She turned her stare towards me and said “you don’t know my past. I have a history like you do” she said trying to act strong but I could tell she was fighting back tears. “How do you know all of my past. I keep a lot inside and I don’t tell you anything about my life at home or school so how do you know that you had the same life as I do” I asked while looking up at the ceiling. She didn’t say anything for a long time and neither did I. After a few minutes of silence of both of us just sitting here she finally said “if I give you a preview of my past will you do the same?” she asked.

I looked over at here and replied “I want to leave.” “Okay. How about we go on a car ride?” she answered while getting up and reaching for her coat. “We can do that?” I questioned. “Yes” She answered while sticking her second arm into the coat. I picked myself up off of the couch and fixed my coat. “Okay” I said while opening her office door and walking out.

She followed after me. When we got into the car I looked over at her while reaching for the cord that I can put in my phone. “She nodded and I stuck the cord into my phone and started to blare music. After a few minutes of sitting there and listening to the music she turned it down and turned into Taco Bell. “Wanna talk and eat?” She asked while parking the car. “I could eat” I answered and got out. When we ordered our food we sat down and waited for our number to be called.

I took my phone out of my back pocket and put my head phones in. My therapist (Amanda) got up and got our food. When she sat back down she tapped on the table to get my attention. I took one of my headphones out of my ear and looked up to her. “Please no phone when we eat” she said. I looked at her and took my other earbud out and sat my phone next to me on the seat. “So I assume you want me to start?” she asked while putting hot sauce on her taco. I nodded my head while taking a bite out of my burrito.

She nodded her head in responds. She sat there for a few seconds trying to gather her thoughts. “When I seven my mother passed away. She was shot in a parking garage while we were leaving the hospital. I screamed out her name but nobody was around to help. I sat next to my mothers dead body and held her face in my little hand. Finally after what felt like forever but really was like five minutes a female came up behind me and picked me up. She called the cops and they called my father. After that night my father became a alcoholic and he remarried. She was evil and I hated her but I hated her sixteen years old son even more.

They got married and I became the forgotten child. They made me do all the chores around the house. I was a little slave to them. My “stepmom” (Lucy) started to threaten me and my dad would sit there and stare at me. “It’s all your fault. You could have ran and gotten help but nooooo you sat next to her and watch her die” my father used to say to me. When I was eleven my stepbrother started to hit me. When I turned thirteen and started to blossom he started to notice me as a sex object.

At age fourteen he sexually harassed me.” He would say “If you ever told anyone I will kill you slowly” and I saw evil in his eyes so I didn’t say anything for years. When I turned eighteen I went to collage and went three times a week to see a therapist. I told her everything she turned him in and he is still in prison. I spent a lot of years scared and feeling helpless and lost like you are feeling right now” she said while looking at her food with tears streaming down her face. “I am so sorry” I said and put my hand on hers to comfort her. “Thank you” she said while taking her other hand on my hand and patting my hand that is still resting on top of hers. “I guess it is my turned huh?” I asked while looking at her.

She looked at me and I started to say “My mother is a meth head and addicted to crack. She drink and smoked. She wants nothing to do with me. When I was two I ended up in foster care. When I was eight I asked for my mothers number and I called her and you know what she said to me?” I asked while looked out the window trying to hold back the tears. “She said she never wanted anything to do with me. That I was a mistake and I should have never been born.

That because of me her life and her body is ruined” I said and I felt a tear slowly run down my face. “And I didn’t need to hear anymore and after she said that I didn’t say anything to her; I just hung up. A few days later I got a call from my grandpa saying that my grandma passed away. A month after that my grandpa died. After he died I began to cut. I started to rebel. I was getting in a lot of trouble and I got sent to juvie.

After a month of being in there I went to a foster home and the foster mom abused me and the foster dad sexually abused me. A few months later I got a phone call saying that my dad got out of rehab and wanted to get fight for me. I began to get visits with him. He asked about my placement and I acted like it was the best place to be. A year of rap and abused I found out that I was pregnant. I didn’t know what I was going to do but I knew that I wasn’t going to inform my foster parents that I was pregnancy. They might make me kill it or get ride of it. I didn’t tell anyone, not even my dad.

A month later I went home to my father. A few months of living with him I told him about my abuse at my old foster home (but I didn’t tell him about the baby) and he told my workers. When I was beginning to show and I could’t hide it anymore, I told my father about me being pregnant. He was pissed but we decided to keep it. After a month of being home my father started to drink and he would say to me “You are helpless. You are no good. You were a mistake. Nobody loves you” and after a few months of saying nasty horrible things to me he started to sexually abuse me.

A few months later at school I got called down to the office and they told me that my farther just called and said that my mother died of a heart attack a week ago. I went home that night and went to bed and didn’t even get up for school the next day. When my dad found out that I didn’t go to school I got beaten and sexually abused and this time it was worst then ever.

After months of carrying the baby inside me I finally went into labor. After thirty-six hours of labor, I had a baby girl. When I turned eighteen and school was almost over my father died cancer and I was finally free and now I have trust issues and I hear and see things now. “I feel like I am in a dream and I can’t wake up”I said while still looking out the window with tears running down my face and falling into my lap. I sat there trying to regain enough strength to look at Amanda but they tears just kept on streaming down my face. The whole time I told my story, Amanda kept her hands on top of mine.

I felt her hands move then I felt her arms around me. I looked at her and have her a weak, half smile and she returned it. “I am so sorry” she told me while I put my face into her shoulder. “Its the past” I told her. “But it can still affect you” she remained me. I cried even harder and held her close. “I don’t know what to do?” I asked her.

“I can slowly help you work through it” she said while tugging back from the hug. “Thank you” I said and whipped my face. After a few minutes of sitting there and trying to get myself to together we finally went out to the car. After a awkward, silent car ride we pulled up to the office and I jumped out and ran to my car. I was just about to hop in when Amanda said “stay safe and everything we just talked about will stay between each other” she said which made me smile a small smile. “Thank you” I said while sliding into the drivers seat and started the car. I put on my seat belt while the car roared to life. I pulled out of the parking lot and headed home.

I jumped out of the car and ran up to my house trying to keep the tears from running down my face. I unlocked the front door and ran to my bedroom. I had a hour to go pick up my baby from her dads house. I laid my head down and fell asleep.

I woke up thirty minutes later to someone calling me. I picked up the phone and answered the call without looking at the caller ID. “Yes?” I asked while rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “Hey sorry. Did I wake you up?” I heard my baby daddy say. Yes but I am awake now.

What do you want?” I asked kinda annoyed. “Are you still picking up Lexie” he asked. “If I said I am going to pick her up then I will be there” I answered while getting my stuff ready to leave. “Okay but if wouldn’t have called then you wouldn’t have bee ready to pick