***Trigger Warning: Minor mentioning of self-harm.***

| October 22 | Early Monday Morning |

~ Sam's POV ~

My fists banged on the door loudly. It was so loud that I was convinced my eardrums would rupture, but I couldn't stop. She couldn't keep me in here forever, could she? I yanked on the doorknob, but it was no use. I was trapped.

"Mom!" I shouted.

I continued to pound my fists into the wooden door, attempting to ignore the shooting pains. At one point, they eventually began to bleed. The crimson liquid began to stain the white paint that covered the exterior of my door. Then, as I looked around, I started to realize my entire room was white.

"Mom, please!" I begged, my head resting against the door as I yanked the handle. "Please let me out!"

I started to pound against it again, ignoring the pain and panic coursing through my body.

BANG! BANG! BANG–!

I gasped awake as I came to terms with the hammering in my chest. At first, I was confused as my hands ran over unfamiliar bed sheets. That is, until I realized I had fallen asleep in our guestroom. A deep breath entered my lungs as I attempted to calm my heart before glancing at the clock.

3:31am.

"Fuck," I muttered.

I decided to hop out of bed since my desire to sleep had vanished.

I had been sleeping in the guest bedroom recently because of these dreaded nightmares and was tired of waking Megan in the middle of the night. I knew it was starting to annoy her. Tonight, I was lucky. Usually I had multiple if it was a bad night.

After fishing my pack of cigarettes out my jacket pocket, I went outside to smoke. I was going through half-a-pack a day now. Not to mention the desire to drink was also back. It seemed as if I was getting worse, which my therapist warned me about now that we were starting to touch on the root of my trauma. Of course, she gave me coping mechanisms, but it was hard to implement them. Especially when I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror after the moment I had with Jade a few weeks ago.

I walked out into the early morning darkness and lit my cigarette as I shielded the flame from the wind. The intrusive thoughts never stopped, either. Thoughts like, Cheat on Megan. It's only right since you're just going to hurt her in the end. Get it over with... and You'll never be a good caretaker. All you know is leaving. Who are you fooling? You'll just screw Ava up even more that she already is...

Of course, I could now recognize them for what they were, but it took a lot of self-talk not to listen and act on them. It was like I was constantly in a tug-of-war with myself. It was exhausting. I just wanted them to go away for good.

My loneliness grew everyday as I continued to shut Megan out of my life. I felt it was needed if I wanted to protect her. Or maybe that's just what I was telling myself.

The cool October air whipped the smoke around as I blew it from my lips. The burn in my lungs was nothing compared to the pain I felt in my heart that seemed to pump throughout my entire body with every heartbeat. What the hell was I doing? Why did I feel like I was losing control of my life? And what would it take to finally make all the bad feelings go away?

The depression, the anxiety, the dreams, the bad habits... everything just seemed to be consuming me. I could feel it numbing me again. I could feel my emotions shutting off little by little and I didn't want to return to that girl again. Not after all the progress I had made over the years. Then again, had I made any progress at all if it could so easily come back like it had?

I took a final drag from my smoke and studied the small orange-colored flame at its tip. Another intrusive thought swarmed my mind and I squinted my eyes shut, but it was strong. Fight it, Sam, I demanded.

But as I placed the lit end of the cigarette on the tender skin of my arm, I couldn't help but think the burn was satisfying.

* * *

As I pulled up to Dr. Dupree's building, I hoped she didn't find it strange I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt regardless of the high temps. Then again, upper sixties for someone like me wasn't cold, but might be for native Floridians. I tried not to think into it too much as I exited my car.

When I entered, the secretary greeted me and let my therapist know I was here. It took her all but thirty seconds to call me back.

"Hi, Sam," she greeted from her lounger. "How are you today?"

"Ah, tired," I responded vaguely.

"Bad night's sleep?"

"Nightmares."

Last session she had attempted to dive into them, but I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready to resurface possible trauma's I had buried deep inside, hoping to forget. Now, I still didn't feel ready, but maybe I never would. But one thing was for sure. I was getting desperate, so maybe it was time for me to jump again.

"Would you want to tell me about them today?" she asked.

"Some of them are pretty heavy," I responded.

"Then, how about the one you had most recently?"

Which would be the one from last night...

I took a deep breath and wished I could say I didn't remember it, but I did. I remembered most of them. Some because they tended to repeat, and some because they were so traumatizing and vivid. I swore I could still feel my hands bleeding from last night's nightmare.

"Ah, I was locked in a place that looked like my childhood room," I started. "Except it was all white. I was banging on my door because my mom had locked me inside..."

I paused and tried not to let the pain my heart overcome me. Instinctively, I pressed my finger into the fresh burn on my arm through my shirt, the pain distracting me just enough to push through the recounting.

"I was banging so hard my hands started to bleed," I confessed. "I kept yelling for her to let me out... And then I woke up."

"How do you know it was your mom that locked you in the room?" she wondered.

The question stumped me because when I thought back to the dream, there had been no evidence that it was her. It was just kind of... known.

"Ah, it's more of a feeling I guess," I answered.

She jotted down some notes before continuing the session. Then, she set her pad down and leaned back into her chair.

"This dream sounds very vivid and real, and I think it's because it's a memory," she explained.

"Maybe."

I could feel myself trying to avoid the conversation because I could feel the onset panic of possibly having to relive those memories again. But I couldn't panic. I couldn't run. I had to try today. I had to try for myself.

"My mom used to lock me in my room all the time... but one time, my mom locked me in my room for an entire day," I revealed. "It was after she'd caught me sneaking out the night before, which is a whole different story."

"Well, then why don't you tell me about that night first?"

"The one where I got locked out of my house for sneaking out?"

Dr. Dupree just nodded.

"Ah, well..." I ran my hand through my hair and attempted to recall everything. "I used to have to leave my keys with her at night. Not that I could leave in my car anyway because it was so loud. So, I had my friends pick me up, and I knew where our spare key was outside, so leaving my keys was never an issue."

Dr. Dupree just nodded along. The expression on her face indifferent.

"That night, when I got back home and went for the spare... it was gone. I remembered checking for it before I left, which meant mom went behind me and moved it. I realized this but didn't wanna give my mom the satisfaction of begging her to let me back inside, so I sat out on the porch until morning. Then, she locked me in my room when she finally decided to let me back in the house."

"Do you think you were doing these things, like sneaking out, for example, to get your parents' attention?" Dr. Dupree asked.

"Possibly."

"And did you believe that you deserved these punishments?"

"I guess, in a way, I felt I did because at the time I was doing horrible things," I confessed. "But as her punishments got crazier, I acted out even more. And looking back at it now, I think I just wanted her to see that... and just love me."

Dr. Dupree nodded. "Could this be a connection to your constant need for validation? Let's say from... Megan?"

"It could be." I shrugged. "I mean, I've never felt whole since..."

"Since?" Dr. Dupree pressed.

"Since they let me walk out of their lives..." I answered. "You know, I never felt broken until after all the abuse, when I left, and they didn't even try to stop me..."

Suddenly there was a huge lump in my throat. It prevented me from breathing and then the tears manifested on my waterlines. I dug my finger into the fresh burn wound, but it didn't do anything this time.

"I don't think..." I choked on my tears. "... I've ever forgiven them."

This didn't seem like news to Dr. Dupree, but it was news to me. I thought them accepting me and the person I loved would be enough, but it wasn't. I thought mom apologizing would do it, but it didn't. What would it take for it to finally be enough?

Dr. Dupree handed me a box of tissues for me to wipe my eyes. I accepted and tried not to let myself feel stupid for being vulnerable. I knew I was safe here. There probably wasn't a safer place than this office to cry, simply because of confidentiality.

"You know..." she started. "There are multiple steps one must take to truly overcome their abusive past and to finally rid themselves of their internalized self-loathing. You're on the right path, Sam. I know it feels difficult, and you have a long way to go, but it's not impossible."

She quickly jotted down some things before ripping the page out and handing it to me. I read over it quickly.

Express pain
Focus on present
Get support
Recognize intrusive thoughts
Accept that there's a future (worth looking forward to)
Give back
Forgive others and yourself

At first glance it seemed impossible, but the more I read, I realized I had started to do a lot of these things already. Of course, the fight was still long and hard, but I could see the progress I had made by looking at this small piece of paper.

"I want you to give this list some thought, and jot down things you believe may help you conquer these steps," she advised. "We're already chipping away at them as we speak, but I'd love for you to deepen your self-reflection. I think you're ready for that."

All I could do was nod as I realized we were coming to the end of today's session. Sometimes these meetings drug on forever, and sometimes time passed so fast that I was convinced she sped up the clocks.

Dr. Dupree stood to see me out. "I'll see you in two weeks?"

"Yeah," I answered hollowly. "Thank you."

She just gave me a nod before I left the office. I didn't feel better about anything, just enlightened, I guess. There were things I was aware of, and things I wished I wasn't aware of. Like the things I felt I would need to do to finally forgive my parents and possibly myself. Whatever the hell I had to forgive myself for was still a mystery though, for now, anyway.

I stared at this list and tried not to be disappointed I still couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel while desperately hoping it would come eventually.

* * *A/N* * *

Ok guys, listen, I know a lot of you aren't necessarily happy about these chapters, but let's be real for a second... Sam has a lot of issues. Abuse causes A LOT of issues, and as much as I love writing fluff, I know a lot of people also suffer from the same things Sam has and could benefit from reading Sam's journey through recovery. There are many stories on Wattpad that give you this "perfect" depiction of a relationship, but this will not be one of them, because that depiction is simply not real. Of course, if you can't read this because it's too heavy, especially with everything going on right now, that's okay. Don't. I will not blame you.

With that being said, there are still so many more chapters left for this season. Hell, we haven't even hit the climax yet! There's so much left and I promise it is going to lighten up. Besides, you know I would never dream of giving Segan a shit ending. I've invested too much time in this couple.

So, please, be understanding, open-minded, and willing to stand by Segan's side through this journey along with me. It would really mean a lot.

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Be Proud. Stay You.

Lauryn