Chapter 25: Therapy

Dear Diary

This is dumb. I think as I sit here on this uncomfortably comfortable padded chair and peer past these pages at Mary.

It was her idea for me to bring my diary to this session.

She had asked me if I ever confided in anyone about what happened. I joked and told her the only person I confide in is my diary.

So here we are, in an awkward silence while she jots down notes, not doubt about how I am acting like a ten-year-old on punishment while I jot down something that she promised never to read.

It didn't make sense to me, not at first. All I saw this exercise as, was something she needed to fill up the hour we were required to have once a week.

After everything happened at my house the night of my drug acknowledgement, I spent the night over at Matt's house. He said he wouldn't tell anyone where I was, but I wasn't stupid, I knew there was someone he would call, someone he would have confirm that nothing bad had happened to me.

Derek came a few hours later.