"His touch glided across her soul like a forgotten hymn, poisioning her armour. She wondered if it was a sin to feel pain as euphoria."

❃ B l a z e ❃

I dragged my fingers through my hair, trying to tame the knots that had formed throughout the night. I read the message that was written on the back of my bathroom door by Annikah, something Dr. Lincoln had encouraged- Strength lies not in victory, but in struggle.

Two weeks ago, I would have thought it useless, but right now I was desperate for any method that would help me from digging an early grave.

My entire bathroom wall was now covered in such quotes to try and erase the memories of my self-harm. My favourite was something Rafael had written a week ago- The stars shine brightly within you, galaxies of strength lie at your fingertips.

I didn't know if I believed it, but it was beautiful.

A long shower later, I dressed in what had become my uniform for the past fourteen days. Grey joggers and a white tee, sometimes a hoodie, if I was feeling extra terrible.

Travis had encouraged everyone to dress the same as me a couple of days ago to drag me out of whatever dazed mist had covered my eyes. We looked completely idiotic in grey joggers and hoodies, but he said looking like asylum runaways was the look of the season.

The memory brought a momentary smile to my face.

However, when I stepped back into my room, it wiped off my face. My heart halted as it often did when I noticed how barren it looked. After our cleaning session two Sundays ago, I hadn't got to packing like Andrea had told me to.

Every time I tried to fill another box with my belongings or ruffle through my closet, I'd have a flashback to all my sleepovers with Kiara and then hear her voice taunting me in the back of my head. I'd end up falling asleep to escape, mostly skipping meals in the process.

My sleep schedule had changed drastically throughout the last two weeks since I had started seeing Dr. Lincoln. It felt like my body was catching up on years worth of lost sleep. The more I slept, the more fatigued I felt.

Dr. Lincoln said that lethargy and nausea were side effects of the pills that she had prescribed, but I didn't want to admit that I barely had any recollection of my senses. Every second of my day seemed to blend into one another until it was just one tiring loop.

I just wasn't sure where all this exhaustion was stemming from.

I piled my hair in a messy bun, avoiding looking at my reflection in the mirror. That's another habit I had developed, not engaging in vanity. I just didn't want to see what I had seen a million times- discoloured rings and deathly skin. My reflection reminded me that I was very alive, and Kiara wasn't.

No, I did the best I could in a difficult situation and just because it didn't end well, I wasn't guilty.

It was beyond my control.

Those were the words Dr. Lincoln had told me to repeat whenever I felt like the guilt was weighing me down. But how was I supposed to say that to myself every minute of the day?

"You're going to be okay," I whispered, but it sounded empty.

I snapped out of my thoughts when a knock tapped against my door and Andrea's face peeked through the corner. She shot me a large smile. I smiled back, but it felt as fabricated as the hope that things would get better.

No, be positive.

"You're running late today, I just came to check up on you." Her words held a meaning much deeper than she let on. She had come for her daily checking of whether I had any blades or not. It wasn't like I could magically procure razors with everyone breathing down my neck, but this was supposed to 'create a model healing environment'.

"The school called your aunt yesterday," she murmured hesitantly and I froze.

"You haven't turned in any of your assignments since the past two weeks and your grades are slipping to B's and C's. Mary's furious because you skipped classes too." Fear racked up inside me and my hands trembled. Who would tell my aunt that my grades weren't the only thing spiralling?

Andrea noticed my state and backtracked. "I told her that therapy's helping and you needed some time. She understands."

I breathed a sigh of relief at her words.

"Aren't you sleeping properly?" Andrea examined my face after her search, and I turned away before she could notice the purple rings that I had tried to hide with concealer. I'd applied it without a mirror and I didn't even know how I looked.

"Dr. Lincoln said it was like an upward parabola. Things would get worse, before they got better," I repeated mechanically, grabbing my phone off the table.

"Blaze, you can talk to me if you're not feeling okay," she said softly, and I tried my best not to ignore her.

She didn't understand. There was no way to make her understand without ending my life so she could perceive the guilt, something which I wouldn't do.

"I know, but Dr. Lincoln's helping."

With that, I left her to search the room, knowing she wouldn't find anything. I had nothing to hide except the letter, which I had kept someplace safe away from this house.

I wasn't ready to talk about that, not yet. Dr. Lincoln knew that I was holding back, but she told me she'd take it at my pace. We had only had four sessions so far, and I intended to show it to her soon.

As soon as I set foot in the kitchen, my breathing picked up like it always did when Aiden was around. He looked up from his bowl of cereal, giving me a customary glare, then resumed eating. Andrea's words ran through my head at his actions, raising goosebumps on my arm.

Dr. Lincoln said he has Intermittent Explosive Disorder. It might explain why he's been so enraged and bitter about everything.

How was I expected to believe that all the times he had touched me out of hatred had been the product of his mental instability? He constantly reminded me of my guilt, then how was it okay to label all his problems as a disorder?

It wasn't fair.

Andrea was close behind, she never left me and Aiden alone for more than a minute. Her eyes darted between the both of us, trying to figure out if something happened.

I gingerly grabbed the cereal box from Aiden and filled my bowl. Even when I was eating, I could feel Andrea's gaze on the two of us.

I barely stomached my breakfast and swallowed my pills under Andrea's watchful gaze. As soon as I washed my hands, the sound of a car honk indicated Travis' arrival.

"Have a good day, don't forget you have an appointment at six," she smiled and I nodded.

She waited for Aiden to finish his breakfast, considering she was dropping him at school. Aiden's car keys and credit cards were all seized, including all the cash in his wallet. The only money he received was for Lunch, which wasn't enough to buy any kind of drugs or alcohol.

Mark and Andrea were pretty serious about bringing about a change in his behaviour, but what they didn't know was that it was already too late.

Grabbing my bag off the sofa, I walked outside to Travis' awaiting car, and he smiled at me. I simply nodded at him and Ann.

"Good Morning nugget," Travis beamed from the front seat, and I twisted the edge of my sleeve anxiously.

"Morning," I muttered. His face fell, taking on a more concerned expression, identical to Ann's. That was how everyone had been looking at me ever since I told them about my problem, as if I was fragile and would fall apart at the slightest nudge in the wrong direction.

He started driving and I just looked out of the window, trying to feel something, anything really. But I didn't.

When we arrived at school, I felt a familiar pair of green eyes lock on me and I pursed my lips when he approached, along with Jonah and Bree.

I wasn't the only one who looked like the patient of a terminal illness. Rafael's skin had lost a lot of its colour, his hair losing its gleam. Instead, it stuck out at odd angles, and his eyes seemed like pits of exhaustion.

After the almost fight with Aiden in the driveway and my subsequent therapy, I hadn't spoken more than a sentence to any of them, and it was taking a toll on all of our friendships.

"Hi, Blaze" he smiled softly at me, the corner of his lips crinkling, and I stuffed my hands in my pockets. I avoided his gaze, nodding.

"Morning," Jonah murmured, and I pulled my hood over my head. Jonah and Rafael had become the most unexpected of best friends, and it was almost as if they had made it a mission to break my defences.

I could feel all of their eyes on me, and I dodged past them and into the hallway.

Rafael was the first to catch up and when his arm brushed against mine, I instantly jolted away. Resistance to touch seemed to be my primary defence mechanism, and it was one I was guarding closely.

The more Dr. Lincoln dug into my memories about Kiara, the more I noticed the similarities in the direction our friendship was going. Kiara had said that I was struggling so much that her fight went unnoticed. I didn't want that to be the case with Rafael and everyone else. So I pulled away.

The more I opened up to Dr. Lincoln, the more I closed off to my friends.

"Blaze? What's going on?" Rafael's eyes resonated desperation and I bit my lip harshly. This was what it was like every morning, a futile attempt at trying to get me to explain the chaos in my mind.

Mild depression had been normalised to me for a long time, but this- it was something else. Something like depression, but much deeper and destructive.

"I'm doing okay," I smiled, but it dropped as soon as I turned away. Even sporting a smile felt like I was moving a million muscles in my body.

"You're closing off. I don't know what to do." He sounded helpless and I winced.

"I'm just tired, sleep will fix it," I wrung my fingers together, the lie burning in my throat.

"Andrea told me you've been sleeping almost every hour of the day, except when you're at school." Bree stepped beside me, and I frowned.

I should've known Andrea would tell her, she had become unbelievably close with all of my friends after their regular visits to the house.

Could I even call them that? I felt like I was severing all the bonds I had created over these past few months, all because I was too entangled in my exhaustion.

"Just leave me alone," I heaved out a long sigh, sidestepping them. I didn't mean it rudely, I was just tired, I couldn't deal with lying right now.

As expected, Rafael halted in front of me.

"Blaze, I haven't seen you like this ever since we first started talking. What is going on?" he asserted and I wanted to shrink in on myself.

When we first started talking, I had someone to blame for everything bad happening in my life- Aiden. But right now, I couldn't point fingers at anyone but myself, and I hated it.

"I'm going to therapy, aren't I? Things will get better."

A parabola- that's what Dr. Lincoln had said.

The others were now standing beside Bree, and Jonah and Rafael shot me synchronised looks of hurt and worry. They were the two people who seemed the most disconcerted by my sudden withdrawal.

Jonah was looking at me like he understood, and I could see a million questions zooming through his eyes.

"You guys have to trust me, I'll figure this out," I said as I stared into Jonah's silvery irises, and he was the first to nod.

Rafael glanced between Jonah and me, his face morphing into a grimace before he stormed away. Hurt sliced through my chest but this was what I was aiming for, right?

"He's just been a bit off these past few days," Bree tried to comfort me. There was a reason why I was avoiding him the most of everyone.

After the night I had told Andrea, I had called him for a few days every night to talk. I told him about therapy and how I missed Kiara. But, then, I started noticing the exhausted pallor on his face, the bags underneath his eyes and his bloodshot eyes that always seemed glazed.

It was clear he was tired, and I knew it was because he sacrificed his sleep to coax my problems. Just another sign that I was getting too dependent and acting like Kiara had described.

Thankfully, the bell rang and I didn't have to engage in an unconvincing attempt to act like I was alive and thriving.

When I walked into Literature with Annikah by my side, Rafael glanced at me once before turning away. I ignored how my heart wrenched.

Even Mrs. Lively must have noticed my change in attitude because she had laid off of me for the past week. It was one of the upsides of my detached attitude.

Today, she was showing us Dead Poets Society as a 'treat', at least that's all I remembered hearing from our last class.

"Ms. Davis, take off your hood," she stared directly at me before starting the movie, drawing the entire class's attention to my seat.

So much for getting better.

I sunk further into my seat after pulling back my hood and I was thankful for the darkness that soon covered the room.

The movie progressed, and so did the tension between Rafael and I. His silence was torturous and I knew it would come to this point. I wanted a fissure to arise, but I didn't know I'd hurt from falling into it.

I lost my own strength helping everyone else fight their battles, but it's okay because I'll be fine.

When Kiara's voice flitted through my subconscious, I clenched my fists around the desk. I directed all my attention to the movie. A queasy feeling settled in my stomach when I felt Raf's and Ann's unmoving gazes on the side of my face.

I ignored them, doodling on my notebook and trying to ignore the churning in my gut.

When the bell finally rang, I raced out of the classroom and into the bathroom. Bile rose up my throat as soon as I locked the stall and I expelled the contents of my stomach into the bowl. My head pounded and sweat beaded at my forehead as I clamped my eyes shut and flushed.

My limbs trembled as I stood up and when I stepped out, I was met by Ann's and Bree's concerned gazes.

"Are you okay?" Ann murmured, and I nodded.

Bree was just watching, giving me the space I needed.

I rinsed my mouth and splashed cold water on my face. Bree handed me a stick of gum and I murmured a 'thanks' under my breath as the taste of peppermint spread across my tongue.

I almost collided with Rafael when I stepped out of the bathroom, his form looming over the door. Travis and Jonah were standing behind him and Travis flashed me a small smile.

"You guys are acting like the fucking Cullens," Bree muttered behind me and I was grateful as everyone stepped away reluctantly with sheepish smiles.

I could feel their gazes on me even when Bree pulled me away to Biology. We settled into our seats, and she smiled at me before pulling out her textbook.

The rest of the period went by in silence and for once, I tried to focus on what was being taught as I remembered the phone call that Aunt Mary had received.

My next three classes seemed to blend in together with me trying to study but failing as exhaustion settled in. My eyes fluttered shut a few times in Physics and Jonah nudged me awake, his lips set into a grim line.

By the time it was Lunch, I was on the verge of falling asleep on the classroom floor. I told Jonah to leave when I slipped to the bathroom for a minute alone without feeling like the entire world was burning around me.

Wasn't the medication supposed to stop all this?

As soon as I set foot in the Cafeteria, Aiden's vindictive glare settled upon me, and I pulled my hood over my head once again, hoping that the fabric would absorb some of his malice.

I was too busy hating myself to hate him.

Going to therapy and rehashing my past memories had unleashed a blizzard of self-hatred that I never even knew existed.

Healing is a parabola.

With those words replaying in my head, I practically ran to our table, feeling Rafael's eyes on me the entire time. I sat on the furthest corner from everyone and laid my head on the table.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Jonah's slid closer to me, and I murmured my denial.

"Do you want something from my tray or should I go get something for you?" He asked, a worried crease between his eyebrows and I shook my head as much as I could without bashing it into the table.

I grabbed his water bottle and pulled out the pill container from my pocket. Taking out two, I swallowed them and over the rim, I could see green eyes tracking my every move.

Bree was the only one who wasn't looking at me sympathetically when I stopped gulping water in the hopes that it would just drown me. They had all seen the same thing every day, me popping the pills that were supposed to help, but their agitation didn't waver.

I placed my head on my crossed arms again, my hood obscuring my face from the rest of the cafeteria as I looked the other way out the windows.

Outside, the trees rustled with the wind, loose leaves scattered across their bases. Sometimes I felt like those leaves. My past was lively, promises threaded like the veins around their green surfaces. But just as autumn came, those dreams withered and fell prey to the winds of destruction.

All it would take was time, and I wondered if I would decompose into the soil like those rustic leaves.

Kiara loved nature, the memories of impromptu hikes flashing in front of my eyes. She adored the summertime breeze and the night sky, until she became a part of it.

My fingers were trembling beneath my hoodie and I bit my lip anxiously to stop my breathing from escalating.

Dr. Lincoln had told me that we needed to figure out what my triggers were. But right now it felt like the smallest of actions or objects, no matter how insignificant, held the power to send me spiralling into another wave of self -destruction.

My wrists itched, and even though most of my cuts had faded, I had the incessant urge to scratch them open.

I needed to get away.

Instantly standing up, I beelined straight for the cafeteria door that led outside to the very trees that had I had been staring at for the past five minutes.

"Blaze, wait up," Rafael's voice called after me and I slowed my steps once I was outside till he caught up.

"What's wrong?" He stepped in front of me, his tone serious yet soft.

"I don't know," I sighed and his eyebrows furrowed.

"Come on, we can't talk here." He made a move to grab my hand but I recoiled, triggering a pained grimace on his lips. He pulled back, and I stuffed my hands into my hoodie so it didn't happen again.

"I'm sorry," Raf muttered under his breath and motioned for me to follow him. I hesitated, my plan to distance myself from him coming in the way.

"Blaze, I just need to talk to you. I can't handle seeing you this way." I nodded my head reluctantly after seeing the desperation in his eyes. I trailed behind him as he made a turn for the back of our school.

I thought he was heading for the roof, and I instantly paused. Visions of blood and flying blonde hair flitted in front of my eyes and I clamped them shut.

Ledges terrified me.

"I can't go up there," I whispered and Rafael turned around.

"We're not going on the roof, there's this spot near the abandoned gardens." His lips turned down into a frown and I looked away, embarrassment flooding my body.

"Oh, okay."

We padded further away from the school and towards the discarded flower beds that had withered after many attempts to revive them.

I felt like my destiny was something much similar.

He turned right at the garden shed and leaned against the brick wall, watching me as I kept a distance between us.

The sunlight illuminated the left side of his face and painted it in a golden glow. However, it wasn't as captivating as the way it danced across his irises and lit up like scorching flames, and for the first time, I noticed just how tired he was. His eyes were much more bloodshot than they appeared, and the dark circles seemed more prominent under the afternoon light.

I noticed I was staring, but Rafael didn't comment because he was doing the same.

Angling my body away from him, I sat down with my back to shed. He mirrored my actions, placing almost a feet's distance between us.

"Talk to me, Blaze," he sighed and I twisted the end of my hoodie sleeve. It seemed like a recently developed nervous habit.

"I don't know what you want me to say," I muttered and he exhaled loudly.

"It's not about what I want to hear, it's about what you need to get off your chest."

"I can't tell you everything, it's too hard." I pulled my knees up and rested my chin against them, feeling the numbness take over.

"I don't care if you speak in fucking riddles, Blaze. I just want to hear you say something," he spoke fiercely and I shook my head. However, he stopped me by placing his hand in the gap between us, not touching me, but reminding me that he was there.

"You don't know how hard it's been for me to watch you these past two weeks. You don't speak, you don't laugh, you don't even look at me." His voice splintered at the last words and remorse built up inside me.

"I know you're going through therapy, and I'm proud of you for that. But why are you pulling away from me?" He looked me straight in the eye when I failed to supply an answer.

I was at rock bottom, I knew it. However, I'd been there so many times that it started to feel like home.

"I don't want to hurt you," I whispered, Kiara's voice projecting somewhere in the back of my mind.

"Do you see yourself right now Blaze? You're so pale, I'm scared you'll drop dead any second. I fucking hate it. I can't lose someone else," he looked away, every single one of his words so softly spoken yet they still tore at my skin.

"I don't care if you hurt me, today or forever." His words pierced right through me, and I clenched my fists at the carelessness in his voice.

"Well you should, people around me tend to end up dead."

He narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything.

"Good thing, because I'm already dead on the inside." A haunting smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Weren't we all, though?

"Therapy's supposed to help, but I just feel like I'm drowning the more I open up to Dr. Lincoln. There's just so much pain, Raf and I feel like it'll suffocate me," I admitted after a few minutes with a tremble.

"I'm here to help you, we all are, but you can't push us away," he whispered, and I bit my lip harshly.

"I don't deserve you," I mumbled under my breath, but he stiffened.

"That's how it was for me too," he murmured softly and the surprise must've shown on my face because he laughed bitterly.

"I've tried therapy, rehab, anger management- the best money can buy. That self-hatred and deprecation never stops until you make it go away," he looked at me meaningfully. Something told me he wasn't saying this just for my sake.

Raf shook his head, cruelly smiling to himself. "There's one generic thing that they all say though, healing is-"

"- like a parabola," I completed for him, and despite myself, I couldn't help but smile.

"Rehab was the worst though. I couldn't see Bree for six months and that fucking broke me," he muttered and I placed my hand next to his in the gap between us.

Our fingertips grazed, and I felt the familiar wave of comfort jolt through me at the sensation.

"You're better now though," I stared at the cracks in the concrete, a small flicker of hope igniting inside me at the thought that it helped Rafael.

He was sober, maybe I could win my battle too.

He grunted, not saying a word. Instead, he brought our hands closer, his fingertips resting upon my own.

"It helped Bree, and it will help you too," he smiled, but it seemed hollow.

We sat in comfortable silence, his fingers occasionally rubbing against mine and sunshine brushing against my closed lids.

"Can I ask you something?" he murmured after a while, and I opened my eyes, momentarily blinded by the sudden light.

I nodded, and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth before sighing.

"Do you like Jonah?"

I shot up at his question, surprise rocketing through me.

"What? No, of course not. Why would you even think of that?" I stared at him wide-eyed and suddenly he flushed, the red blatantly obvious against the glaring sunlight.

"You guys just seem close, and you were looking only at him this morning and at Lunch. He's a nice guy, much better than I am, and I've seen the way he looks at you. It's like he's just waiting for something to go wrong so he can be there for you, and it kind of stings that he knows stuff about you that I don't. I feel kind of forgotten," I was shocked at his rant, and he rubbed one hand on the back of his neck, awkwardly biting his lip.

I wanted to smile at the sight, I really did. But my medication didn't only numb the lows, it also dampened the highs. I felt like I was watching from the outside, living, but not quite.

"We've been through a lot together, Rafael. He gets me, but he's not you." The words came flying out of my mouth. I immediately regretted saying them when Raf's heated gaze met mine.

Then I remembered how I needed to distance myself, at least for my own sake.

I took a few steps back, turning around and instantly his footsteps trailed mine, crunching against the concrete.

Before I could even speed up, he had intercepted me and I stopped in my tracks as his shadow towered over mine. His green eyes looked so beautiful, both in the shade and the sunlight, and I decided that I now had two favourite colours.

Blush pink and sage green.

One was my past, a treasured memory and the other my present, an appealing illusion of peace.

He just stared at me, taking one step closer and then two, until his fingers brushed mine again.

"I need to say this now," he shook his head, a lock of brown hair falling into his eyes.

"You're really beautiful," he murmured softly, his fingers running across my knuckles and for a second, I allowed myself the comfort before I felt numb again.

"I don't think I deserve you. But I like you, Blaze, so much that it's hurting me," he whispered, his breath fanning across my nose.

You killed her, you're a murderer.

I retracted my hand and took one step back, and then another. His eyes brimmed with hurt with every inch of distance I placed between us.

Why can't you hear my cries for help?

Every cell of my body screamed to stay, but in the end, the voices in my head won. Rafael looked like he had been stabbed in the chest, his face twisting with pain, a wounded expression painted in his eyes.

I turned away before I caved in.

The only thing that followed me when I left was the soul-crushing pain embedded into my bones.

When I stepped back inside, I felt like I had been paralyzed. My entire body seemed to be devoid of energy and all the emotions drained from my mind.

Numbness once again took over.

But then why did it feel like a piece of my soul had just been ripped away?

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The pristine ivory walls did nothing to calm my flaring nerves as Dr. Lincoln observed me above the rim of her narrow glasses, scribbling away in her notebook.

For the past thirty minutes, she'd been slowly nudging me to narrate the details about the nightmares I had.

"Last night, I pushed Kiara off the ledge and the night before that I tried to reach for her but it was like she wasn't there. She just slipped through my fingers," I muttered, feeling unnerved by the way she didn't say anything for a minute after.

Her raven hair was pulled back into a sleek low ponytail, her chocolate coloured skin clothed in a cream pantsuit. Everything about her screamed professional and expensive, and I felt out of place in my grey joggers and hoodie.

"Did you push her that night, Blaze?" She finally put her notebook aside and looked me in the eye.

I winced at her question.

"No, I didn't," I murmured, her gaze still not wavering.

"Then why do you think you're having these dreams?" she tilted her head to the side.

"I have a fucked up brain, Dr. Lincoln. That's why I'm here."

"So you do acknowledge that it's your brain that's fabricating this guilt?" I pursed my lips at her question.

"I do, but I could have done something, anything to stop her from reaching that point," I clenched my fists as helplessness settled in.

"Blaze, sometimes people feel like the only way out is by ending their life. I'm not saying it's right, but for them, at that point, it seemed like a solution. Even if somehow you managed to help her, how do you know that she wouldn't have done it five years down the road?" Her voice of reason broke my well-established shield of guilt.

"Then what about me? Can you guarantee that five years later I won't do the same thing as her despite getting the help I needed? Wouldn't you feel guilty about not doing better, Dr. Lincoln?" I couldn't help the bitterness spewing from my mouth.

She smiled softly as if she held all the answers in her mind.

"I can't promise you anything besides my entire effort to help you get better. But at the end of the day, only you can assure that you won't give in. Blaze, you've seen the aftermath of suicide, how terrible it can be, and that changes your path from Kiara's." Her words caused tears to well in my eyes, and I looked away before they fell.

My sight focused on a photo-frame behind her that depicted the various stages of grief.

"What phase do you think I'm in?" I turned back to Dr. Lincoln. She didn't comment on my rapid change of topic.

"I feel like I'm going through them all at once, although acceptance doesn't seem in my cards," I muttered under my breath, but of course she heard it.

"There's no benchmark or protocol for grief, everyone deals with it differently."

I yawned unexpectedly and flushed at how rude it must have looked. However, Dr. Lincoln's lips quirked up.

"How's your sleeping schedule?" Her tone indicated that if I lied, she'd call me out.

"I think I'm in hibernation." My attempt at cracking a joke failed when she frowned.

"I just feel tired all the time, and sleeping fixes it," I shrugged, but realized it was the wrong answer when Dr. Lincoln pursed her lips.

"I'm going to change your medication," she muttered lowly while scribbling on her papers.

"How's school?" I froze, unsure of how to answer that.

"It's good?" I cursed myself at how it sounded like a question.

"There are no right answers here, Blaze."

"Not good," I muttered, my mood deflating as I recollected the events of the day.

She observed my face, silently signalling for me to continue explaining.

"My friends are trying to be there for me, but I feel like I don't deserve them. And I really want to trust them and tell them about Kiara, but I can't." Dr. Lincoln's face was impossible to read as she wrote something else in her notebook.

"Why can't you tell them?"

"Mark and Andrea didn't tell anyone how she died, they lied. I understand that they needed to properly grieve and it's hard if people talk. But, I just needed to talk to someone and I couldn't because I felt like I would disrespect them if I told everyone the truth." I froze when I realised what I was saying. Where the hell was all this coming from?

Even Dr. Lincoln looked speechless at my surprise confession, but she quickly composed herself.

"I just really want to tell Rafael because I don't want to shut him out," I bit my lip anxiously.

"Who's Rafael?" Dr. Lincoln now looked curious as she leaned forward in her seat.

"He's a... friend." What was I even supposed to label him as?

"Is he the friend that you feel you don't deserve?" She raised an eyebrow and I sunk into the plush sofa at her interested gaze.

"Yes," I murmured.

She didn't comment, just hummed to herself.

"He helps, you know? It was nice talking to him every night cause then I wasn't scared of the nightmares. But then I realised that I'm depending on someone to save me, and that's so weak," I felt tears gather in my eyes again and I blinked them away.

Dr. Lincoln scrutinised me, her brown eyes impenetrable as they peered into mine.

"We're humans, Blaze. We can't be expected to live life in seclusion and attempt to accept the fact that being alone is better than staying together." Her words were cryptic, and I grabbed onto the pillow beside me as a means of comfort.

"You don't get it. How does it make me look that I go to someone else to solve my problems? I've been doing it by myself all along. I should be stronger than that, I don't need saving." My voice cracked, pain pouring through.

"Is he the one who suggested therapy?" Dr. Lincoln asked and I shook my head.

"No, I wanted to get help."

"Is he the one who's fighting your battles every night?" I shook my head again with a grimace.

"Is he the one to credit because you've not harmed yourself in two weeks?" She leaned back as I grudgingly muttered a no.

A spark lit up in Dr. Lincoln's eyes as she regarded me coolly.

"There's a big difference between saving someone and helping someone. You're the only one who's saving yourself. From what I know, you're the one who's working towards bettering your life, not him. He's just providing you support, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that."

I now realised why she was considered such a good doctor, it was impossible to not feel reassured by her words.

"But isn't that wrong? Shouldn't I be focusing more on myself?" The question had been nipping at my mind ever since Rafael had said he liked me, and a small smile spread across Dr. Lincoln's face.

"Healing doesn't mean you have to do it by yourself. You can find the way with someone by your side. Allow yourself that, Blaze. It's okay to mend yourself with their love rather than doing it on your own, as long as they know just how they're helping you." Her smile spoke of wisdom and I believed her, my previous doubts fading away.

"He said it was okay if I hurt him, but I wouldn't do that," I whispered, and she tilted her head to one side.

"You've seen a lot in life that you shouldn't have, I won't deny that. But that's only matured you, and I know that you realise what's wrong and what's right. So what is this?"

I took a long pause before answering.

"It feels right."

"But it's not even that long since I broke up with Aiden. Doesn't that make me look like a whore?" I flinched at my wording and Dr. Lincoln's lips pursed into a disapproving line.

"You and I both know that whatever was going on with Aiden ended a long time ago." She looked at me intensely, and I feared for a moment whether she could see past my bullshit.

"Besides, you can't put a time frame on emotions. They happen when they want to, that doesn't say anything about your character." Her voice was firm.

Thankfully, I didn't have to answer because the melodic ringing of her tableside clock indicated that this session was over. I got up, shooting her a smile.

However, I paused at the doorknob as her voice carried across the empty room.

"Blaze, allow yourself to feel. You deserve it."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The sound of chatter grated against my eardrums, and I winced as my headache intensified.

It was Physics class and Jonah and I were sitting at the back, watching the class in chaos as our relief teacher desperately tried to calm everyone down.

Someone had messed with the projector and there were now pictures of cartoons twerking on the screen.

Threats to call the principal flew from her mouth, and I felt sorry when her yelling was overpowered by the voices of twenty teenagers.

Jonah was saying something to me, but my mind was rushing in a million directions that it was silenced.

After my talk with Dr. Lincoln yesterday, my initial plan about distancing myself from Rafael had evaporated, giving way to the inclination that I undeniably felt towards him.

When I hadn't seen either him or Bree this morning, I had asked Travis where they were and he said they were both with Mark for an unplanned meeting and would be back by Lunch. My worry only soared when Rafael left my messages on delivered, but I remembered the way I had walked away after his confession yesterday. It was well-deserved.

"Blaze, are you even listening to me?" Jonah tapped my shoulder, and I jolted.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I'm just a bit tired." It wasn't entirely a lie. I had pondered over Dr. Lincoln's advice for about two hours, which was my current highest record of staying awake outside of school. I had fallen asleep in the evening only to awake twenty minutes before Travis was there to pick me up, and I still felt exhausted.

"How's therapy and work?" He asked conversationally but I could sense that he wanted to ask much more.

"I haven't gone to work in a week, I fell asleep there last week and Charlotte told me to take a break or she'd fire me. Therapy's great," I muttered. Jonah drew his bottom lip between his teeth nervously.

"I'm here for you now, I'm sorry for not being there earlier," He suddenly murmured and I tilted my head quizzically. Was he still worried about that?

"I already forgave you for that, Jo," I sighed when he refused to meet my gaze.

"I can't help but feel like things could have been different if I was here, you know?" He shrugged his shoulders dejectedly.

"We're not going over that anymore." I held his gaze, and he grudgingly nodded his head.

I took that moment of silence as the end of our conversation and rested my head on my desk. Despite the ruckus, my eyelids fluttered shut and I pulled my hood up to try to shield the light. Eventually, I gave in to my exhaustion.

A hand nudging me constantly woke me up, and I groaned when Jonah's face met my line of vision.

He didn't say anything but frowned at me, and I eventually got up when I realised that class was over and our RT was looking at me worriedly.

It wasn't every day that you saw a girl looking like she'd been raised from the dead.

I rushed out of the classroom and tried to look as alive as possible.

Stopping in front of the bathroom, I told Jonah to go to Lunch without me. He just nodded, his gaze instantly falling to my wrists and I knew what he was thinking.

Slamming the door shut behind me, I gripped the counter harshly. I was about to splash cold water all over my face in hopes to try and stay awake. However, I was startled by the sound of muffled crying and shallow breathing, like the person was desperately trying not to alert anyone of their presence.

For a minute, I wondered if I should leave them alone but I paused. Something told me I shouldn't leave.

So, I waited for the person to either step out of their locked stall or stop crying, but when neither happened, I hesitantly knocked on the door.

I was expecting to be told off or met by silence, but a minute later the door was pushed open.

My breath caught in my throat when I recognised who it was, dread filling my body when I saw the finger-shaped bruises on her pale arms.

"Summer?"

oh hi there! how is everyone doing today? what time are you reading this at?

i was actually not planning the dr. lincoln scenario but it just happened, mainly to address all the people who are like "wHy iS bLaZe So WeAk AnD sPiNeLeSs" or "wHy hAvEn'T tHeY mAdE BaBiEs yEt"

have patience my young padawans. you guys might like the next chapter because things progress quite a lot. anyways, thoughts on this chapter?

question: off the top of your head, how many crushes have you had? and i do not mean harry styles and algee smith people.

stay safe, i love you guys.

love
a