The ride home has been quiet. I know my mom is scared to say something to me. I can feel her eyes shift to me every minute, every turn we take. I want to say something, but I'm not. My parents lied. They told Mrs. Forbes, I've been away at boarding school. We live in a small town, and Mrs.Forbes is a gossip; I know she told everyone, including her daughter, and knowing her daughter, she went on to tell everyone at school.

I'm mad at my parents, but I can't be too upset. What were they supposed to say when people asked where I was. Our daughter tried to take her own life on her bathroom floor, so we sent her away to a mental health facility. Of course not; it would've ruined their reputation, ruined our family name, and I know that's important to them.

It's my fault they had to lie in the first place.

Everything is always my fault.

"I'm sorry." My mother says as we pull into the driveway.

"It's okay," I say sincerely now that I realized that I am the problem once again.

"We weren't planning on lying. We weren't, but we decided it would be best if no one knew. We did it for you." I somewhat believe they did it for me, but knowing them, I know they did it for them first, before me. "We knew eventually you would come back, and we didn't want people to be in your business in our business." She places her hand on top of mine. "We are going through this together; you are not alone." My mother tries to assure me.

I am alone though, they try, but they will never really understand what I'm going through; they'll never understand how fucked up my head is.

I don't say anything. I nod my head and look out the window. My dad heading towards the car. He opens the door for me, letting me out.

"Did you girls have fun?" he asks.

"Yeah." My mother answers while wiping her damp eyes.

"I can tell!" A smirk comes across my father's face as he looks to the back of the car, noticing all the bags.

"Oh, shut up." My mother says jokingly.

My mother is now out of the car too. My father grabs her embracing her in a tight hug, kissing the top of her forehead. My mother looks up at him. I see that little sparkle that creeps into my father's eyes. They love each other; they really do.

I've questioned their love for me a million times, but I have never questioned the love they have for each other.

There was a time when I thought I would one day have that type of love, endless...infinite love.

I don't want that anymore. Love is overrated. Love won't make me happy; love won't make me want to live. Nothing will. No one will.

They release each other from their hug. "Let's get these bags." my lovestruck father says.

...

It's 8 o'clock now, I ate the leftover pizza for dinner, and then I came upstairs to put my new clothes away.

"Jayda!" my father calls my name from downstairs.

I rush down the stairs into the living room. "Dad," I call, looking around; he isn't in the living where it sounded like he called me from.

"I'm in my study," he yells from down the hall. I walk into his study. He puts his hand out, gesturing to me to sit in the chair. I move towards the chair and slide into the leather seat in front of his wooden desk. "Your mom couldn't bring herself to talk to you, so it was decided that I will speak with you."

"Okay," I say. This can't be good. Any time something serious is going to happen, my dad is the one to talk to me. He's the strict one. My mom is somewhat the fun one. Usually, my dad uses my mom to tell me things when it's something they know I will hate, and since my mom couldn't do it, it must be bad. I start plucking the rubber band on my wrist.

"We are happy that you're back. We are. We love you so much, and we only want what's best for you because we love you." He says the words as if he practiced them beforehand; he probably did. "With that being said, we both agreed that weekly therapy sessions are what's best for you right now."

"What?!" I say a little louder than I meant. "I don't need therapy. I just spent six months in therapy. They let me go because I'm fine." I throw my hands in the air.

"No, they let you go because we paid them." he spits out, correcting my knowledge.

"What?" This can't be true. I did everything they wanted me to do in that place. I said what they wanted me to say.

"They knew you were faking, Jayda. You've been cutting for years since you were thirteen. Did you really think that they thought you had changed in six months?" He narrows his eyes at me.

I blow my breath and say, "So, they knew I wasn't ready to leave, yet they let me go because you paid them?"

"Money can get people to do whatever you want them to do." He's right people would do anything for money; they don't care about us; that faculty looked like a resort, rich families pay top dollar to get there 'mentally unstable' 'Drug addicted' children in there. "At first, they threatened to sue us for child endangerment, but after I gave them a generous donation. They turned their heads, all except for Mr. Dale," Makes sense Mr.Dale seemed to be the only person in there who cared about us, who cared about me. "He threatened to call child protective services on us, even though his boss said he would get fired if he did. But we came to an agreement; he said he wouldn't call, only if we put you in therapy."

That's why he let me go. He knew what I was planning on doing. He knew I wasn't ready to leave, but he couldn't keep me there even if he wanted to.

"For now, your sessions are three days a week. Monday, Wednesday, Fridays."

"Tomorrow. I have to go Tomorrow?" I ask, even though I just heard him say Monday.

"Yes, Jayda, you do. Your mom will drop you off at the clinic tomorrow after school."

"For how long?"

"Until you don't want to die anymore."

The little bit of air I hand left in my body has been sucked out. It hurts hearing my father say that. It hurts even more because I know I'll never feel that way. "Is that it?" I need to go, my eyes are stinging, and I know what's next. I don't want to cry in front of him.

"Yes, but before you go out...here." He reaches his hand out, handing me my phone. I haven't seen my phone since the day I tried to kill myself. I remember leaving it on my bed and then walking away from it. I stand up from the leather chair and reach my hand out to grab the phone. I take it out of his hand. I'm surprised they are allowing me to have it.

"I have to go into the office tomorrow, so I won't be here in the morning to see you off to school," he says

"Okay."

"Goodnight," he says to me before I leave the room.

...

It's weird having my phone back. I haven't been on it in six months. Where did I put my charger? I walk over towards my drawers and open each one. It is not until I reach the last drawer when I see the white cord. I walk back over to my bed, plug the charger into the wall, then connect my phone.

After a few minutes, the apple sign shows. It takes a while before I remember my password. 2468 I type in, and the phone unlocks.

The first thing I do is go to my Twitter to look at Ashely's page. I need to get caught up on what's going on. And what better way to do that than going on the page of the most popular girl in school.

*I heard her parents sent her away because she got pregnant by some boy from Ravenswood -Monica

*My mom told me her parents caught her in bed with a guy, so they sent her to an all-girls boarding school- Ashely

* Didn't you fuck her, @Roman? -Zach

*No, I never touched her. The bitch is crazy! Remember Freshman year. -Roman

*Who doesn't? She had a freaking break down during 2nd-period lmao -Brittany

*And that Assembly-Matt

*Well, she's coming back Tomorrow -Ashely

*What! How do you know? -Brittany

*My mom saw her and her mother at the store, her mom, said she was coming back TOMORROW!!! -Ashely

*Is she really? Her mom told my mom two months ago that she was coming back, and she never came.- Monica

*I can't believe she's actually going to show her face- Monica

*I sure as hell wouldn't -Cammie

*I mean I wouldn't mind seeing her; she's hot as hell. -Zach

*Does she even have any friends? lol- Cammie

*I haven't seen her hang with anybody. She was always in the nurse's office or the library. I mean a lot!!!- Zach

*She probably had to get tested a lot; I mean, if I sleep with that many boys, I would get tested every day. -Kelly

* Haven't you, though? -Roman

*LMAO- Zach

*^^shut up -Kelly

*Gross. I hope she doesn't show her face at school. If she does though, nobody better talk to her either -Ashely

I hadn't even noticed I was crying. My phone has teardrops all over it. My breathing is rapid. I can't believe people are saying these things about me. I've never slept with anybody ever, so how could I have been pregnant.

I haven't done any of those things that they said, except for the panic attack. I was on a new medication, and it messed up my head bad. I remember freaking out in front of everyone.

I'm plucking the rubber band on my arm. I can't do this anymore. This is why I want to end it all; I'm so tired of everything, everyone. I need to release all these feelings. I need to do something to feel peace. Without thinking, I hop out the bed and head to the kitchen.

I walk over to the knife drawer.

"Just one cut, then I'll be fine," I say out loud.

I open the drawer, and it's empty. I go down the line of drawers opening all the there's and there nothing, only spoons, no knives, no forks. My parents must have moved them. I ball my hands so tight into a fist that I feel my skin rip. I look at them, there are moon-shaped prints embedded into my palm with a little blood. I take a deep breath before heading back up to my room.

I crawl back into my bed and get under my cover. I just don't understand why I have to stay alive if I'm going to be sad forever. I just...I don't understand why I have to go through this; why can't I just be fucking normal.

Before I know it, I'm crying myself asleep. Again.

I really am back to reality.

(2:13 in the morning, and I'm just now finishing this chapter. I hope you guys enjoyed it. Don't forget to vote and comment. I like hearing you guys' feedback and thoughts.)