Alex started writing in his journal. It did an incredible job calming him. It was half the reason he was still alive. He had his notebook for five years. It was huge.
blood and dirt and tears line the paged. The edges were frayed and the binding was beyond broken.
He wrote and he wrote. Why talk to someone when you can write it down?
Martha knocked on the door. It was the morning now. He hadn't even noticed. "You can come in." George was there too.
"Now, hear us out..." Martha starts and he knows this can't be good. He keeps writing.
"We're going to send you to a therapist," George said, nervous. He didn't let it show in his voice.
"I won't tell them anything that I won't tell you." He scowled. "You don't need to know anything about me... Didn't I tell you enough?"
Martha smiled, "You told us what happened and we're proud of you for that..."
He swallowed, "Why can't you let this be over..."
They both hold back a sigh. "You're still going through it.. We want you to be okay."
"I am okay."
"Please..." It was close to begging.
He swallowed, "Please, don't make me."
"Alexander, it's for your own good."
"I'll stop overreacting and crying. I swear." Alex promised. Martha and George couldn't find the works to tell him that's not why. They left for a bit, needing time to figure out a game plan.
Laf took this time to jump in. "Hello..."
"Hi."
"You know despite the whole thing seeming ludicrous, therapy does help some people." Laf smiled. "I can tell you've been through a lot."
"I haven't. So many others have it worse."
"I don't think that's true. People always invalidate their own experiences... The truth is it's okay to be upset or traumatized. Even if it's over."
He entertained the thought. "You think I should go?"
Lafayette nodded.
He paused for a long time before nodding.