Kate

It was two weeks before SFIT's counseling center could see me but today was the day. Tadashi decided to wait for me outside but I was nervous the entire time. I sat in the chair with my knees drawn up to my chest, trying not to look at the man in front of me. I was completely honest with the psychologist even though I felt crazy for doing so. I desperately needed his help. He never once looked at me like I was crazy though, which I appreciated.

"Well, Kaitlyn. Typically, I wait longer before this kind of diagnosis but in your case, I believe it will be better to go ahead and let you know what is going on." I forced myself to look up at him. "I know you feel like you are going crazy but you are not. It isn't that simple. You have PTSD. This is serious enough that I would like to start seeing you weekly." He kept talking about my condition but I stopped listening. I knew enough about PTSD. I had to do a lot of research on it and anxiety disorders for my project.

I walked out feeling numb and Tadashi was immediately by my side. We walked back to lab without saying a word. I let my bag slide to the floor and I sat down on one of the stools. Tadashi sat down beside me and asked, "So, how did it go?" I looked around to make sure no one in lab was paying attention to us. Everyone was engrossed in their own projects so I decided to go ahead and tell him.

"He's already diagnosed me," I whispered as I pulled books out of my bag. I paused before continuing. "PTSD." I tried to keep my voice as emotionless as possible while I flipped through a book about neurotransmitters.

"So your project could help when you finish it." He sounded hopeful but I sighed.

"I don't know if I'm even going to finish it."

"What? Why?" He asked a little too loudly and I quickly glanced around. A few people looked up, confused, but went back to work.

I leaned toward him and whispered, "It's too dangerous. Do you know what could happen if the wrong person got their hands on my work? I should destroy it."

"Don't give up! You can't let this work go to waste." He argued, "Think about how many people it could help."

"And how many it could hurt!" I didn't want to talk about this anymore. I stood and slung my bag over my shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow." I turned to go but he grabbed my wrist. His grip was light but I was already annoyed with him. I ripped my wrist out of his grasp with more force than necessary and hissed, "Don't touch me." He recoiled and I turned on my heel, storming out of the room.

I didn't even know where I was going until I was already there. I walked through the park and sat down underneath a tree. Leaning against the trunk, I closed my eyes.

It wasn't long before I felt my phone buzz and I pulled it out. Turning it off, I threw it back in my bag, closing my eyes again.

"Hey." I sighed, frustrated that I was being interrupted again. I looked up at the man in front of me. What could he want? He knelt down so he was at eye level with me and smiled. "I'm Cole. What's your name?"

My eyes narrowed. "Why?" He laughed and sat down.

"Do I really need a reason to ask your name? I just thought we could talk."

"I don't think so." I got up to leave but he jumped up to stop me.

"Wait! Why won't you talk to me?"

"I don't know you." I tried to walk around him but he kept moving in front of me. "Move."

"What? Afraid of strangers?" He chuckled.

"You would be too if someone broke into your house and almost killed you, leaving you with amnesia and PTSD," I spat out angrily. He stopped in shock and I took the opportunity to walk past him. He quickly recovered and ran to catch up to me.

"Wait, did that actually happen to you?" I glared at him but kept walking. "Hey! I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to scare you." I stopped and turned to him.

"I'm not scared, Cole. I'm angry." I started walking again and this time he didn't follow.