"I just I just don't understand why I have to go back." I wipe the tears from my eyes. My father pulls the car over and then takes the key out of the ignition.

"We explained it to you, Jay," he says.

"But I'm making good grades; I'm still doing my work... I"

"Yes, but your attendance, if you miss a certain amount of days, you fail for the year,"

I can't even look at him; I keep my eyes focused on the car floor.

"But it's excused; it's medical!"

He takes a deep breath. "It's not," he says softly.

I look up at him. "What? But you said.."

"I know what I said, but about a week ago, Ms.Moore called to inform me that the board isn't looking at your absence as medical."

"What? Wh-- Why not?" I stutter. "I have seizures!" Why would they not look at it as medical?

"Yes, but your seizures are not brought on because of health reasons... at least not physical health reasons."

I narrow my eyes at him. "So, are you telling me they dont view mental health," I emphasize the word health. "As being a real health problem?"

He stays quiet. I lean back in my chair and sigh.

"I'm sorry; if there were something I could do, I would," he says. This time I stay quiet. "I think you're ready, though. You've been doing good at home—Rachel has given us good reports from your sessions. I think you'll do fine." he puts the key back into the ignition and starts the car. Once a white car passes us, he pulls back onto the street and continues driving.

Did Rachel tell them I've been doing good? Does she think that I can handle school? Of course, she does. I've been pretending like everything has been fine. I haven't told her that I started back cutting. Though knowing Rachel, I'm sure she knows. Then again, she can't. She wouldn't send me back to school, knowing I am not stable enough. Would she?

This explains why she was asking me about Ashely. Rachel knew I was going back to school soon, and I guess she didn't want me to go back and still have a hatred for Ashely.

Her exercise didn't work; I still hate her.

I don't care about what she's going through. In the end, she will pay for what she has done. She won't get back what she deserves from me. I'm not going to fight her again. I highly doubt I would've fought her if I wasn't on that medication. I remember exactly what the doctor in New York said.

"We have run numerous amounts of tests, and we didn't find anything health-wise... well physical health-wise that explains the seizures." Doctor Blake explains.

"So, what caused it?" My father asks with irritation in his voice. We've been here for days, so it's expected.

"Well, you guys stated that she was on Clexa, right?" My parents nod there, heads. "Well, sometimes, antidepressants can cause seizures." The doctor says the words slowly.

"But that isn't a side effect of Clexa!" My mother blurts out.

"Well, ma'am, all medications affect people differently. When we add side effects to medicine, we add them because that's what we have seen from that specific medicine," he explains what I told her already. "We see different, new effects all the time. It isn't really reliable. So when you look up side effects for medication, don't look at it and say, 'Oh, this is as all that can happen if I take this medication.' You should look at it and be like, 'This is what could happen and then some.'"

Both of my parents take a deep breath. My father stands up from the blue chair. "You know we tried to pick the best and safest medication for her." My father says and looks at me.

"Let's get one thing straight, Mr.King, no medication is safe." Doctor Blake says with conviction in his voice. "It's meant to help us, but that help can come at a great cost."

I'd never heard truer words; I knew the medication was affecting me, but I didn't want to stop taking it; I was doing better. And because I was doing better, I was willing to deal with the price.

"So, what else could have possibly been an effect of the medication?" My mother asks.

Doctor Adams looks at me. "Have you been feeling lightheaded?" he asks.

"Yes," I say honestly; there is no need to lie now.

"Headaches?"

"Yes."

"Increase sweating, heat flashes? Fast heartbeats, feeling shaky?" By the way, he asks, I know this isn't the first time he has had to do this.

"Yes."

"Have you been in a fight recently?"

"Yes. yes, she was." My mother answers before I can.

"Wait? What?" My father stammers. "Are you saying that the medication caused her to fight?!"

"No, of course not!" Doctor Adams looks back at me. "Have you been feeling irritable? Overly upset, on edge?"

Instead of saying yes, I nod my head. I can see how my mother is looking at me; she asked me if everything was okay, and I lied to her; There's disappointment in her face, in her eyes.

"Okay, but that's not the medicine!" My father snaps, still blinded by the truth even though it's right in front of him.

"Has she ever been in a fight before?" The doctor asks—both of my parents stay quiet. I've never been in a fight before. "The medication caused the irrational behavior, which caused Jayda to do something she's never done. Not saying the medication is an excuse for fighting and acting out, but it did play a small part in her change of behavior,"

"So, what do we do now?" My father asks.

The doctor told them to take me off the medication and wait about a month before trying something new. He said something about antidepressants taking awhile to get out of people's systems and that it would be safest to wait a month.

So that's what they did; that's why I wasn't surprised when my mom asked me the other day if I wanted to try again. It has been a month. It felt like a vacation, sort of.

I can't believe it's over; I can't believe that I will be back in school this time tomorrow.

All because the school board doesn't view mental health the same as physical health. Which is really ridiculous because health is health!

"Where are we going?" I look at our surroundings. We are going the opposite way from home.

"We are going to the DMV.," he says.

"Why?" I draw the words out.

"Because you are going to take your drivers test today, well the online one,"

"Today!?"

"Yes, today. You have been practicing, right?"

"Yeah. Is this why you told me to start reading that book?" Two weeks after we had come back from New York. I was sitting in my room, and he came in and handed me the driver's manual book; he told me to look over it every day. I was shocked when he gave it to me. I figured the whole getting a car thing was off the table.

"Yup, your mother and I were going to take you sometime later this month. But I figured that since you're going back to school Monday, you would like to drive there yourself." he looks over at me. I can tell he is looking to see whether I am happy about this. I kind of am, but then I'm not.

If I get this car, will both of my parents still be home in the mornings, or will things slowly start to go back to how they were? Them leaving at the crack of dawn, me waking up to a big empty house, me being in this big empty house, alone...for weeks at a time.

"Is this something that you want? I mean, you don't have to--"

"No." I cut him off. "I want to take the test...I want a car!" I try to say excitedly.

"Good."

If I kill myself, I don't want them to be home; I don't want them to be anywhere in Crossland. There's a high possibility that when I get this car, they will leave again. I know they will; my parents are the type of people that can't stay in one place for too long; the only reason they came back to Crossland on the weekends was for me.

As I got older, I would've rather had them stay away than come back. When they came around, they would always look so tense and irritated. Whenever they came back, it felt like our time together was being timed; I saw the anxious look in their eyes as they waited for that timer to go off. As soon as it did, they would go flying out the doors, not even saying goodbye. Well, they did say goodbye through a simple text, though.

Sorry, had an early flight. See you next week. It is what they sometimes sent. Other times it was a simple. Love you, see you soon.

"I told Chuck to keep the dealership open longer." my father says.

"Wait." I look at him. "I'm getting the car today too?"

"Yes, that is if you pass the test."

...

"Number 47! Number 47!" The lady calls. I stand up from the chair and give my dad a small smile.

"Good Luck." He says.

I walk up to the front and hand the lady my ticket. "Go ahead and sit at one of the computers, sweetie." She takes the small paper out of my hand. "Start whenever you're ready."

"Thank you." I walk away from the desk and over to where she directed me. I pull out the black chair and sit. I click start on the computer, and the first question comes up. I hesitate, not because I don't know the answer but because this is one of those important, impactful moments in life.

No, this is a life or death moment.

If I take this test and don't pass, my parents will stay, they will have to stay. Me failing this test and getting my parents to stay could save my life; it could give me time to find something to live for.

But if I take this test and pass, I'll get my car, and they'll leave. Then I will have my chance, my opportunity to kill myself while there gone; they wouldn't find me until days later, maybe. They'll text and call and never get a response; surely they would come back to check on me or send someone over to check on me. Whoever finds me, they'll find me dead, long gone.

Is that really what I want? To be gone forever. I've asked myself this question so many times. I've told myself, yes, and no, and maybe.

I don't have those options anymore. I need to, no, I have to make a choice right here, right now.

I reread the question and click the answer.

(I cant believe its been 5 days since I've updated!)