Chapter 1

  My sexuality has always been an issue. Whether I was in primary school or grammar school, there would always be people who somehow found my sexuality annoying to them. It’s not like it was any of their business, in fact, I tried to keep it a secret for a long time, but as usual, secrets don’t tend to stay secret for a long time.

  But it wasn’t just that, it was also my body that made me a target for everyone. It’s not that I was ugly or anything like that, I just had a robotic leg. Unfortunately my leg had to be amputated after a really bad incident in our old house. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, really. Well, almost.

After the thing with my mom I moved in with dad and started living in his house. He didn’t mind, he even suggested we sell the house we used to live in originally to make all the pain disappear and start anew. And so I did. Or I tried at least.

  It’s been two and a half years since that day and I can still remember everything that happened that day. I guess such strong experiences like this particular one make a person remember every single detail about them, which in my case isn’t exactly a joyful thing.

  ,,Are you awake Theo?” My dad suddenly enters my bedroom without hesitating and heads straight to my bed. He looks a little worried, but that’s probably just because he’s late for work, as usual. It’s strange, instead of working as an employee in some public organisation he runs his own clinic and yet he always manages to arrive late and keep the patients waiting. He doesn’t make a big deal out of it though, he says he’s just a person and can’t always do everything perfectly. I can’t argue with that.

  ,,Well now I am. What time is it ?” I slowly sit on my bed and stretch my arms. I can tell that I haven’t had enough sleep tonight.

My dad tells me to hurry up and put some clothes on so that we can leave the house as soon as possible for my doctor’s appointment. Well, technically it’s not a doctor but a therapist. I’ve been seeing one ever since the thing. 

  I put a nice jumper on, then some black jeans and I’m good to go. In the car I eat one of those energy bars and drink some water and after that I can finally prepare myself for today’s appointment. It’s actually quite scary when I think about it. No one from my year has therapy sessions for as far as I know. I guess I’m different in many ways.

,,Hey, don’t worry about your session with doctor Pembley, alright? You’ll do just fine and once it’s over we can go back home. No school for today like I promised.” He looks at me and gives me one of his big smiles. I can’t resist and smile back at him.

  I suppose it’s a little weird that I’m visiting a public therapist while my own father basically is one. But it was his idea. And honestly I don’t know if I’d manage to talk regularly about my mental health and situation at school to my dad. So I guess he was right, as always.

When we arrive at doc Pembley’s clinic, dad simply wishes me luck, dropps me off on the sidewalk and then disappears. I guess this is it. I think to myself. I start walking all the way to the main entrance of the building and then ring the mechanical doorbell.

  ,,Good morning, this is doctor Pembley’s office, how may I help you today?” A nice young voice approaches me through the microphone on the doorbell.

,,Hi, this is Theodore Curran, I’m here for my appointment.”

,,Oh, right! I have you here Theodore, please come in.”

 The waiting room is as cosy as always, with big windows on every side. I haven’t been here in almost a month so I’m a little stressed but I’m used to that by now. 

  There are only three people sitting there: a middle-aged woman, a guy just about the same age as her and an old guy who’s most likely pushing his sixties. 

  I’m the youngest person in this room. That’s pretty awkward. I go and sit on one of the chairs that are closer to the windows and I wait. It usually doesn’t take much time for the doctor to invite me in but I still hate every second of it.

  ,,So, Theodore, tell me, how are you holding on?”

,,I- uh, I guess it’s gotten a little worse over the past few days.”

,,I see. What exactly has been on your mind?” The doctor looks me straight in the eye and gives me one of his usual looks.

,,Well, everything ‘bout my school and stuff,” I say silently pretending to have no interest in this whatsoever. But he isn’t stupid. He knows exactly what I’m trying to say according to those two years of therapy sessions.

,,So you mean the bullying?”

,,No! I…I wouldn’t call it that…”

,,What would you call it then?” He asks with a caring smile forming on his lips.

,,I dunno.”

,,Look, it isn’t important what you’d call it, but what is important is how we deal with it. Have you been writing to your journal like we discussed?”

  Ugh, how could I forget. Doc Pembley makes me write in a journal every day to deal with the things I have been dealing with both now and in the past. My dad says it’s useful but I think it’s a waste of time. As far as I know it hasn’t improved anything.

,,Actually, I don’t think that’s been of any use doctor.” I look at the floor and try to avoid as much eye contact as possible. I always think of moments like this as if I’m disappointing him or something. It’s pretty embarrassing.

,,Oh, alright then. I suppose it doesn’t have to be efficient in all of the cases. But in that case I suppose we should find some other way to help you with everything. How about a new friend? Someone you could possibly relate to?”

  I freeze. I’ve been avoiding new people, especially new friends, ever since I transferred to Westside. The only friends I have are one girl from primary school and this guy in my class. The rest I’ve been trying to ignore as hard as I could. 

,,What do you mean? That I should just like go out in the streets and try to find someone as fucked-up as me? Is that what you’re trying to say? Out of all people, you should know by now that that’s not how I work. God, it’s like no one understands me anymore.” I look away and feel my hands shaking, my heart racing, my head spinning. But he seems as if nothing happened at all. He just nods and looks towards the window.

  ,,I know this must be hard for you, Theodore, I really do. And trust me when I say that I want to help because I really do. All I’m saying is that it might not be a bad idea if you at least tried to find yourself a new person you can trust and feel safe around. You don’t have to immediately go and find someone, but you could give it a shot.”

,,Okay, I suppose you have something in mind?” At this point my look is more desperate rather than annoyed.

,,As a matter of fact I do, yes. I’ve been thinking, how about a support group? I remember we talked about it in the past but we never got to actually try it. So what do you say? Would you be willing to give it a shot? I know it’s a lot to ask and I know you tend to keep everything 

that's happening in your life to yourself but perhaps it’s time to open up to someone with a similar point of view on life. It would be held here in the clinic in the common room every Friday at six. And before you say anything I just need you to know that everything you do or say during the meeting is strictly confidential and voluntary. You don’t have to answer every question if you don’t feel like it but it would obviously be quite rude if you just sat there and didn’t participate. And with time and a little effort you’ll eventually find it easier to open up, even about topics you never thought you’d speak about. So what do you think?”

  ,,And you’re positive this is gonna work?”

,,No, I’m not. But I suppose that’s the ultimate risk, isn’t it?” That same smile again.

,,Yeah, you’re probably right…”

,,Listen, I don’t expect you to just hop into this and get magically better after the first session. It’s going to take time, of course. But I really believe that if you give it a try you could be surprised by what it has to offer. All I’m asking is two sessions. And if you come to think it doesn’t help you at all then you can quit. Deal?”

  My hands are now as cold as ice and I can’t even think straight because of the non-stopping anxiety. I know I need to get better and I know that I need help but this simply feels like too much. I’m afraid I won’t be able to handle it, I’m also scared it won’t work, again. I can’t risk it, I can’t experience another moment of knowing there’s no solution to my problems. I just can’t. But maybe I have to. I don’t know anymore. All I know is that I don’t want to have to live like this, knowing all the things about myself that I don’t even want to know. I don’t want to be alone anymore.

,,Deal.”