Not Strong Enough
The chair was hard, the wooden back pressing into her body. Lily gripped the sides tightly, her knuckles turning white, her breath caught in her throat. I can’t do this, she thought. I can’t.
The door to the counselor’s office was just a few feet away. She knew she doesn’t have to go in. No one knew she’s here. No one cared, probably. A shiver ran through her body. What if…?
She needed some fresh air. She needed a few moments to herself, to think. Sitting on the stone steps in front of the building, she let a tear drop down her cheek. What’s wrong with me? She wondered. This shouldn’t be so hard. She had rehearsed the words she wanted to say over and over, interrupted only by his phone calls.
Although the bruises on her arms were beginning to fade, her fingers strayed unconsciously to them, pressing just enough to feel a bit of pain. Lily bit her tongue to keep from crying out.
She is not going to go in today, and deep down she knew that. Crying uncontrollably, she let her feet carry her away.