~~Ashley's POV~~
The early hours of the day were my favorite. While listening to each breath I took, my ever-so-rare calm heartbeat, I savored the soft scratching sound that came from shading the black hoodie on my drawing paper. My eyes were devoid of any sleep, my concentration remained steady while I drew my morning away. Makayla's case forced me to unravel my talent for imaginative drawing as I struggled to get the perfect description of the psycho on paper. 'Pffft…' Of course it would be absurd to catch him easily in the same clothes. But still, I couldn't sit idly by; after all, I am the only witness.
"Beep beep beep beep…," my alarm clock cried suddenly. Spontaneously, I pressed hard against my paper with my pencil, causing it to break; I was pissed. My morning was disturbed. The annoying beeps were however silenced almost at once when I pushed the clock standing on my drawing table close to my hand, to the floor, shattering it to pieces. "Son of a gun!" My palpitations set in again. My mom always got me those clocks and placed them on my drawing table on purpose knowing that's most likely where I'd fall asleep if I got lucky. But again and again, the clocks ended up in the trash just after being bought. "Argghh," I sighed, knowing I had to get up and get my day started. The clocks weren't all useless after all.
The end of the summer break was finally here! The new semester was to start in a few days, I suddenly remembered and heaved another sigh of annoyance. I walked to my mirror and behold! The giant shadows under my eyes were darker than ever; don't even get me started on the puffiness. Scratch that, I had concealers lying everywhere around the mirror, that was the least of my problems. I went ahead to wash up and apply some to my dark circles before heading downstairs.
In the kitchen…
"You're up?" my mom asked when she saw me walk in. "I was about bringing your drugs to you. What would you like for breakfast? I made scrambled eggs…,"
"Good morning mom," I cut her rambling short. 'Save me the stress ma'am.'
"The drugs didn't work?!" "Ahhh…" I sighed briefly, walking out of her sight to the cabinet near the gas cooker.
My mom had the habit of infusing me with sleeping pills before bed time but like always, they had zero effect. Apparently, she had paused to take a closer look when I greeted her. The concealer failed to conceal the truth from my mom after all.
"I'll take scrambled eggs," I told while sipping a cup of coffee I brewed. From where I stood, I could observe the depth of my mom's sigh from her chest movement before turning around to me. 'Stop looking at me like that.' I scorned the pitiful look my mom always wore whenever she looked at me. "I said I'll take scrambled eggs," I broke the silence and then turned around to face the brewer instead.
"Your dad got you another therapist." 'Thud!' I dropped my ceramic mug forcefully. 'Not again.' I let out a deep sigh of annoyance. That was the sixth time in one month for crying out loud!
"C'mon Ash…" Seconds later, I felt her hand patting my shoulder.
"Oh please," I shrugged. "Listen…" Getting hold of my left forearm, she turned me around to meet her direct gaze.
"You need help, Ashley," she told wearing the pitiful look that disgusted me almost every time!
"Come off it, Mom!..." I paused for a moment, locking eyes with her. "How many more horrendous sessions do I need to go through before you and dad finally understand how useless and unnecessary these things are?" I asked while making hand gestures to follow every word.
"You need help, Ashley," she gripped my hands earnestly, her face was washed over with empathy. "Let us help you. Help us to help you, Ashley." I looked away.
If only they knew how much I dreaded those exhausting sessions with certified talkers apparently paid to pull you out of anything with just words. It's been a month already, and nothing's changed! "Don't you get it??!!" I voiced. "These people are not helping matters, mom!" wearing a scowl, I cried out giving her the distraught gaze. These people should at least understand how exhausted I am already.
"Miss Antonia. The best one yet in Chicago. She's helped so many people like you get back to normal," she recited anxiously. I could tell the burning yearn for my cooperation from the look in her eyes. "Your father sacrificed a ton to hire her, Ashley." That drove me mad!
"My "father," my "father," my "father." Where the hell is this "father" of mine???!!" I yelled with emphasis on the last 'father.' My father who was literally ready to buy me a new life was seldom around. Engrossed in his business and work life, he only left his traces around us.
"Ashley please!" 'We've had this conversation over and over,' I could hear regardless. Staring unwaveringly into her bright warm eyes, I could tell just when they welled up; she was almost in tears. "I need my child back. I need my once warm and happy child back." Emotional blackmail! That's the trick that landed me on the chair opposite the so called therapists most of the time. "Don't give up on yourself, Ashley. Allow us to help you. Allow us to never give up on you. Help us help you, I beg you!" she pleaded with increasing tones at each sentence.
"And what if nothing changes?"
"She's in the study." "Screw it!" I muttered under my breath before storming off.
I walked straight to the study.
When I first opened the door, it was empty as I could clearly see the seats from my point of view. There was however a small aisle I needed to go through to confirm and so I did. Voila! I caught sight of a silky haired woman looking out the window. Following the trail of her really long hair all the way down, it landed my eyes on her round butt which went further to confirm she was indeed a woman. Without saying a word to the ridiculous woman, I took my seat.
"You're finally here," the strange lady spoke, revealing her soft voice. Instinctively, I tilted my head to the wall clock to check the time. It was past 9 already. 'Has she been waiting longer than I thought?' All these thinking made me curious for what she actually looked like. 'Reveal yourself to me.'
"Hello there," she voiced again with a colder voice as she turned around to meet her deep blue eyes with mine.
'Son of a gun!' I reacted. I stood up at once and held on to the top rail of the chair. I could feel my fingers boring through its wood as I struggled to hold back. In no time, my palpitations worsened; I could feel a rush of adrenaline charging through my veins; my neck felt heavy like it couldn't stand the blood pressure anymore; my breathing rhythm changed instantly; it was damn hard to keep my composure. "What stunt are you trying to pull?" I whispered through gritted teeth. Like she was intentionally driving me nuts, the wench, without flinching, watched my episode play out.
A few seconds after, the next phase ensued. Grotty scenes from "that night" began to replay in my head. "Aaargh…," I groaned loudly, using my palm heels to support my temples the moment my terrible headaches set in. It felt as if my whole world was spinning in a fury. My heart and brain were raging simultaneously to get out of their place. My chest felt tight, my airways stiffened, and I struggled to breathe while gasping for air.
"Stop it!!!!!!!!" I summoned every ounce of strength left in my vocal chord to shrill, using my hand to push down the bookshelf beside me. It took a while, but eventually, my petite touch compared to the gigantic shelf showed an effect. It fell to the other side pushing the other shelf beside it, until the third and final shelf – which was a bit smaller – on the same line, causing numerous books to scatter all over. "Get… the hell… away… from me!!!" my voice echoed behind the sound of crashing objects.