Gray Skies

Prompt: “Write a story about a young girl who hides herself away because of a traumatic incident. What happened? How does she view the world now?”

"I’ll see you next week then?" My too-perky therapist asked at the close of our eighth session.

"Sure." I said indifferently.

"Same day? Same time?" She asked, her brown curls running up and down her neck with every slight movement of her head. 

"Yeah." I sighed. I really wanted to go home. Though, I didn’t, really. I wanted to be alone now. As I did after every hour with this lady. This lady who claimed to know what could help me, who claimed that if I thought about what had happened, if I looked back and figured out why I had done what I did I would understand myself better. 

All I wanted to do was forget about it though. 

I wanted to forget that one night. That one night that kept replaying in my mind like it was a tape that instead of ending would automatically rewind itself and play again and again and again.

"Okay. All set! Bye now, Lydia!"

"Bye."

Finally.

I wandered out to my car and stood outside the driver’s side door for a few minutes; just standing there near the road, watching cars go by. I couldn’t say I hadn’t thought about, well, you know. 

I got into my car though. 

Once on the road I turned on the radio and drummed my fingers on the steering wheel to the beat. It was a song I knew almost too well. It was a rap; and even though normally I wasn’t a fan, I liked this artist. I thought what he rapped about actually mattered. A lot of it rang true for me too. That was part of why I liked him so much. There were a lot of other reasons, but that was the main one. 

A few other songs played before I arrived at my place. My place was a park I often went to when I wanted to meet a friend. It was one I spent a lot of my middle school years at too. And I had been going here since I had started therapy two months ago. It was an easy place to just be and decompress after being so, well, releasing so much emotion. If you’ve ever been in therapy you know what I’m talking about.

I walked the path that lead to this little makeshift bridge over a small brook. I always came here because I liked the sound of the water. And it wasn’t near any super public part of the park which I needed since I was in a vulnerable place after sitting with that crazy lady for an hour.

In truth, she wasn’t all that bad. In truth, I kind of liked her; but it was so hard now, to see the good in people, after what I had been through.

I sat on the little improvised bridge for fifteen minutes before a friend of mine showed up and sat with me.

"Hey, Lydia." He said.

"Hi, Felix." I answered weakly.

"I thought you might be here. I tried to text you earlier."

"Yeah. I saw it. I was just…"

"You just got out of therapy, like, twenty minutes ago. I know."

Felix put his arm around me. He had always been good to me. He had been with me through a lot already; and, he was one of the few friends who stayed close to me after I opened up ant told them about what had happened.

"So, what did you talk about? You don’t have to tell me if you feel uncomfortable." Felix said comfortingly.

He was always so kind to me. It was so easy to open up to him.

"Well, you know the whole story already." I said.

"Yeah, I do. How is your mother doing?"

"Well, the doctors say she might be on the pain drugs for a while, but she should recover." I said, fighting to keep tears back. "Physically, anyway…"

Felix held me a little tighter. “I’m always here for you.” He said.

I so loved these little moments with him.

"I wish she got out of the relationship before it got to this point." I choked on every word with that sentence. "He’s such a f*ing dirtbag…"

I only every swore when there was truly no other word strong enough.

"Well, he’s out of town for a while, right?"

"Yeah… not for long enough though." I shuddered at the thought of my mom’s, technically ex-, boyfriend coming back after his "vacation". "He was in the hospital with my mom a few days ago… I wanted to go in there and beat him… after what he did. He doesn’t f*ing deserve to be anywhere near her."

Felix rubbed my back, trying to relax me. “I know, Lydia.”

I threw a rock I had been rolling back and forth in my hands as hard as I could and watched it bounce off a tree and into the brook.

"You mom’s gonna get a restraining order right?" Felix asked.

"If she gets strong enough. I’ll make her if she tries to refuse though. He doesn’t… He cant just do that to her.”

I felt tears heating up in my ducts and start to overflow from my eyelids and roll down my cheeks.

Felix pulled me into him and let me cry.

"I hate him. I hate him. I hate him!" I said over and over as the tears kept coming. 

Felix just held me and let me cry.

Reviews

[cslade]

Lots of great detail and explanation! I love how your start your story off with dialogue! I do that as well :)

~cslade

[The Butterfly Writer]

Thanks so much :) Dialogue is my favorite thing to write cause it really shows how characters relate to one another.

[cslade]

I totally agree with you :) I look forward to reading more of your stories! Do you like writing poems or do you prefer to stick with stories? I loved to read any of it!!

[The Butterfly Writer]

Not a great poet. I tend to stick to stories. Though I have had a couple poems serve as inspiration.

[cslade]

Really cool! I am very interested in a lot of writing! Let me know if there is anything specific you want me to read :)

[The Butterfly Writer]

Well, feel free to read the rest of the stories in this collection. You may enjoy Wild too. Read all of my work though if you want to. I love getting feedback :)

[cslade]

Great I will most likely read a lot of them :) and I have a story up on my page which I would love feedback on!! ;) It is called The Journey to the Safe Haven!!

[alex ramirez]

really well written, flows very easily and since it is about a teenager and teenagers will probably read it, it's not too wordy or slow - things that might put a teenager off from reading a story.

[The Butterfly Writer]

Thanks :) I wrote it form a pretty personal place, so, maybe that's why it works so well.