Hollow (Heaven Hill Generations #4) - Laramie Briscoe
Prologue
Mandy
“My name is Mandy and I tried to kill myself.”
I’m not sure where the strength is coming from for me to say these words in front of a group of people I don’t know. But here I am, in a meeting.
A meeting I’ve been told I will have to attend every day while I’m here, and if I want to get better, I may as well get used to it.
“Hi, Mandy.”
The amount of voices speaking back to me is more than I thought there would be when I came into this room, but as the time came closer for the meeting, people just kept streaming in. So here I am with a bunch of people I don’t know, trying to fix a life that’s gone completely sideways.
“I tried to kill myself too,” one of the girls sitting on the opposite side of the circle from me says. “Went at my wrist with a pink razor, complete with moisturizing strip.”
There are some laughs, and it makes me feel slightly better about my situation.
“The thing was,” she continues. “I didn’t really want it to work, and maybe that’s why it didn’t. There were reasons, of course, because we all have reasons for being here, but they got bad because I wasn’t living my emotions. That’s something you’re going to learn, Mandy. To feel. Don’t be scared of it, let it happen.”
Nodding, I take all of this in.
Everyone in our circle goes around saying their name and why they’re here. Some people have issues saying what they did, others say it with a conviction I can’t even imagine right now.
When the meeting is over, I’m pulled to the side by the woman who checked me in here.
“Mandy, I’m going to take you to your therapist. For now you’ll be seeing her every day. We’ll adjust as we move on in the process, but it’s important the two of you get along and can speak openly with one another. If you have any issues, please let me know.”
“I will.” I clasp my hands together as we walk down the hallway.
My mind is spinning, so many things are happening in such a short amount of time, but I realize that this is almost like shock treatment. If I’m left alone to my own devices, there’s no telling what I might do to myself. When we turn a corner, I see a closed office door with a name on a gold-plated sign.
Dr. Annabelle Crawford
We knock on her door, and I hear a come in. The voice is welcoming, not at all like what I was expecting. My only experience has been with Doc Jones, and she loves us all like family, so I’ve always assumed other therapists weren’t nearly as nice.
“Mandy, this is Dr. Crawford. You’ll have an hour-long session with her, and then I’ll be back to get you. We’ll show you to your room then.”
What else is there for me to say? “Okay.”
The door shuts, and I’m faced with the woman I’m supposedly going to tell every single one of my secrets too. She’s young, younger than me, with an easy smile. She flashes it as she comes to sit next to where I’ve taken a spot on the couch.
“Nice to meet you, Mandy.”
She has a seat, crossing her legs, placing a pad of paper into her lap. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re here today?”
I struggle this time. Without the support of a group having the same issue I do, I’m ashamed to tell her what I’ve done.
Is this how Dalton and Walker feel? Are they ashamed of me?
My face burns hot, no doubt as red as a tomato.
“You don’t have to worry.” She leans forward, uncrossing her legs and putting her elbows on her knees. “This is a no judgement zone.”
While I’d love to believe her, I just don’t know if I do or not. So I want to shock her.
“I was ready to kill myself in my son’s nursery.”
She doesn’t even flinch.
Instead she gives me a sympathetic look before sitting back in her seat and jotting something on her notepad.
“That must have been a very hard decision for you.”
“Not as hard as I thought it’d be,” I admit. “I always assumed people who were ready to end their lives were completely done and had no one who loved them. I have a ton of people who love me, but I was still ready to go.”
“Why?” she questions.
The answer is right there on the tip of my tongue if I want to