"Aylah, wake up... we're going to be late for school!" A deep masculine voice spoke, gaining my attention back to reality. I sat myself up against the headboard, sweat beads began to trickle down my forehead, the saltiness arriving to my mouth, I wipe my lips with the back of my hand to get rid of the disgusting taste. "Ayl?"

I realised I was breathing at an abnormally rapid rate so I took deep breaths just like my inner voice instructed. After several minutes of copying my action, a harmonious voice broke the silence.

"Was it the same nightmare?" He questioned, automatically knowing what I just dreamt of. I came face to face to Kenzo, my best and only mate. There was no point denying the obvious so I nodded slowly, averting my gaze anywhere else but his sky blue eyes, hoping that he wouldn't interrogate me any further.

"Perhaps you should book an appointment with Dr Hadid. You haven't been to therapy since last year and she did make you promise to go back if the bad dream reappears."

I imagined what it was like to sit in a box-like room filled with colourful posters about 'positivity' just to repeat the same story over again. I shook my head fiercely, not wanting to go through that. Don't get me wrong, Dr Torres was a remarkable listener with great advice, she was also very sincere... but that was the problem, she was way too good at her job and it just made me nervous. I've got to say though, out of all therapists I had over the three years, she was by far the best one... only because she managed to ease my dreams for a short period of time and she was young, therefore understood where I was coming from most of the time.

"Aylz, I just want the best for you-"

"Then don't call her!" I said quickly before slipping on an impassive mask and waving my hand dismissively, as i correct myself. "What I meant was, don't waste her time. This dream was a one off."

I didn't find ideal to talk about the same incident. I just wanted to forget them.

"If that is what you think is the best for you, then I won't call her." Kenz reassures me, I smile back at his as a response because I feel like I don't have the energy to speak. "Okay, just begin to get ready for work." He says whilst getting up from my bed and making his way downstairs, whilst I process what just happened.

I let out a deep sigh, hoping to have a fairly good day ahead of myself at work, which I have less than half an hour to get dressed.

A nice hot shower would be splendid right now, but unfortunately with my tight schedule that isn't possible as of this morning. I'll make sure to have one when I get home from work, though.

Pulling myself out of bed before making my way straight over to the section I had placed my uniform last night. Goose bumps arose on my skin as I stripped out of my cheap pyjama set. Nothing can beat the ice cold temperatures we experience in Darleyton.

I grabbed the light blue denim jeans off the silver hanger, unzipping it before pulling it up my legs, placing it over my broad hips, so that it was resting on my waist. I yanked the zipper up before securing the button above it as well as rolling up the ends of the jeans. Next, I got my hands on the white long-sleeved top off the hanger before slipping my arms through the holes and tucking it into my jeans.

I put on my black north-face jacket on top and I walked over to my set of drawers and pulled out my black trainer socks.

Lastly, I slipped my feet into my only black trainers. Since being on a budget, the most affordable ones I can get is from the thrift store, down Oakwood street.

I exited the spare room Kenzo is letting me stay in and walked into the bathroom, brushing my teeth and emptying my bladder before going over to the white vanity, putting a thick layer of mascara and applying a coat of clear lip gloss. Not to forget adding some concealer under my eyes to cover my dark circles.

After I brush my naturally straight hair into a high ponytail, I finally headed to the living area, where I knew Kenzo would be.

"We should go now." I tell him. "There's going to be a lot of traffic."

Kenzo nods my way, slipping his air force ones on. "Are we going to open up Monroe's?" Even the mention of dad's bakery make my stomach turn, especially since today marks one year of him not being by my side.

"Uh no." I state back to him as we make our way outside where Kenzo parked his car. "There's no we in this, you got to be at school."

"You know, I'm always up for missing a day."

"Kenz." I say sternly. "You know what your parents said if you skive one more time."

"What did they say?" Kenzo jokingly questions, in response I just roll my eyes.

Getting in the passenger seat of his black Vauxhall corsa. The car is fairly expensive to me but to Kenzo it's cheap. This his first car, and so far no damage which is good because his parents promised him an Audi a5 for his birthday if he keeps it in shape.

***

Just as predicted, the traffic was horrific but thankfully it wasn't too long and we both went our separate ways. I made it Monroe bakery just before eight o'clock and Kenzo went off to Darleyton University to train for his sport class whilst I'm stuck baking. I enter the big kitchen at the back of the bakery, where I put all the desserts I pre-made last night in the oven to bake.

Whilst the bakery slowly fills with customers; (mainly elderly people), I call Dr Torres as I think lakyn might be right. I haven't been to therapy for so long and it might be a good idea to vent it all out... not that I haven't done so a billion times before.

"Hello, you have reached Darleyton Therapy Centre."

"Hey... Dr Torres, so I've been having--"

"We're sorry to keep you waiting. You're now number six in the queue – we'll be with you as soon as we can."

Great. I was talking to the answering machine, definitely not awkward at all.

I connect my air pods to my phone, so I don't need to put it on speaker because it would be embarrassing if they picked up and "Hello, you have reached Darleyton Therapy Centre." everyone would just think I'm deep down some lunatic poisoning their desserts... because that's what society assumes for a person who goes to therapy.

A couple of minutes went by and I finally reached number one in the queue so I excused myself to the kitchen whilst I was waiting to make myself an appointment. Thankfully I had a view of the customers, so I could see if anyone stole anything.

"Good morning, this is Ciara Valente, here to assist you in any post traumatic event or any mental health issues you have been through."

"Hey, this is Hazel Monroe. I've been a client at Darleyton Therapy Centre for a while now--"

"Ah that's amazing!" This Ciara girl cuts me off... also did she just applaud that I've been in therapy!?

"Uh, excuse me?" I question, taken back from her response.

"Apologies if I offended you.. I'm new to this." She informs me, I kind of figured that she was a new receptionist.

"No problem. Can I just book an appointment with Dr Zara Torres please?" I request, trying to rush this "hi-how are you" conversation as I can see a customer waiting patiently; whom I raise my hand to, signalling them I'll be a moment.

"Do you mean Dr Zara Hadid?" She questions me, low-key confused by the name Torres.

"Uh, I don't know. She tall, slim with dark brown curly hair." I begin to describe her because that's the best I can do; I haven't spoken to her in a year.

"Okay yes, Dr Hadid." Ciara confirms. "Tomorrow at 10:20am is our only slot for this whole month. I can book an appointment for October."

"Can you not do a later time tomorrow? It's just I'm very busy until the evening." I beg, how can I possibly manage to work and go to my session at the same time?

"No unfortunately, they're all were booked in advanced so you either book it tomorrow or--" Her words slowly became silent as I saw a very familiar figure. Fuck.

"Tomorrow is fine, bye." I quickly say, rushing my way to the front. I came face to face to Carlos; the guy I am in serious debt with.

"Listen Monroe, this is your final straw. If I don't get this month's rent, then consider this place mine... oh and don't forget the last three months you owe me!" With that, Carlos heads out of the bakery, leaving me with shocked stares from all these grandparents... ugh old people annoy me.

Long story short my father had passed away a couple of years ago, meaning I had to run Monroe's bakery, with the help of my mother. But not that long ago she fled away with her "part-time" boyfriend leaving me to be responsible with all the financial struggles and this is making me be in debt of a grand as I didn't pay since June. A month of rent is only £250, which if isn't bad if you consider it but as I missed the last three months, that equals to £750 and this month's rent as well. Unfortunately, we have had a lack of customers buying our desserts since there's a new café opposite our shop, making our regulars go their instead, but leaving all the middle-agers with me. If I don't pay Carlos the rent on time, he owns this place which means then he he can easily take this place as he owns it but because my dad had rented it; I have to worry about getting him paid and not losing the only memory of my father... and mother. 

This is also partially the cause of my hair falling. Stress and me do not combine well.

how do you like story so far? ~ summer.