Forbidden Love 3

Falling Fast

Disclaimer

I only own Hannah Montana in my dreams. However, I do own everything that you don't recognize. Tee hee.

Chapter #25A

Healing

"Miley, I'm here to help you." She said, as if I didn't already know. "But you can sit in silence at home. You need to tell me. I don't expect you to know exactly what caused what emotion and why, I just want to know what happened, so I can help you recover from whatever it was. I want to understand."

And just like that, I felt one slithery tear slide down my cheek, an act of betrayal. "It's just so painful." I whispered as the tears started faster and faster. "There's just so much . . . stuff. One thing after another. And remembering it . . . it hurts. A lot. She nodded solemnly.

"I know it can hurt." She agreed, "but it hurts more to keep it inside."

"How can you know?"

FALLING FAST

It was a month before I could truly talk about the . . . incident . . . and I still don't like too, but I've made "great progress" as she says. Today, the tenth of June, I am finally being released for an "out-patient" program. I have to come back for meetings that will, eventually, grow farther and farther apart. Right now I have to come in for an hour every Tuesday and Thursday while, at home, I meet with a lyricist who will help me turn my pain into songs that won't blow everything. The CD is planned to be released in August, and the tour should begin halfway through September. I'm not sure if I'll ever return to public school, but I don't think so. It's just too much drama and I've learned that I work much better with one-on-one anyways. At "Rain" I started studying sophomore work almost immediately, and by New Year's I should be beginning my junior year! It's a lot to take in, and my changes don't stop at emotions. Two weeks ago I chopped my locks to just above my shoulders. After too-often crying jags my daily makeup routine has diminished to lip gloss and cover-up. My style has also changed; before it was preppy, now it's a little less bright, a little looser too. I've fallen in love with the maternity-style tops that seem to be in fashion, which may be my own sort of therapy; wearing the clothes I'd never gotten a chance to.

Right now I'm sitting in my counselor's room – on her desk to be specific, swinging my legs nervously as she asks questions about who's coming to pick me up. This is part of leaving the center; I have to have a half-hour therapy session that encompasses my entire family before going to my room, grabbing my bags and taking off.

"Who's coming, again?" she asked, clicking her pen nervously.

"My dad, Heather, Jackson, Lilly, Oliver, Owen, and Mrs. Oken." I answered quickly. My family; dad, Heather, Lilly, and Jackson, were all required visitors. As Oliver's my best friend and Owen the father of my dead child, I felt they were important to include. Their mother had wanted to come, both of their parents had volunteered but someone needed to stay home with their cousin, who would make a mess or something else horrific.

"Right." She said, scribbling a note on her clipboard. She glanced at her watch, "they should be here in three minutes." She offered, returning to the pen-clicking. I sighed, looking around the room. I had come to be at home here. When the couch had grown too uncomfortable I'd sat on the floor, the desk, her chair, and gone on walks in the little garden. The only reason I was allowed to sit on the desk now was that there was no other room. Ms. Green was also on the desk. The large couch, including people sitting on the arms, would fit five. Her chair and the one extra we'd borrowed from another counselor made room for Ollie and his mother to sit too. Still, we'd be claustrophobic in the tiny room. Just as she was about to talk again, the doorknob clicked. This was it, the first time I'd seen them in a good four months. The door opened, carrying in their chatter, and everyone tumbled in. I jumped off of the desk and into my father's famous bear hug. I melted.

"I missed you Miles." He told me.

"I missed you too." My voice cracked. No, I would not cry! I would not! I move on to hug Heather, rubbing a tear from my face.

"It's so good to see you." She told me. One tear.

"Miley!" Lilly squealed. I ran into her and we hugged. Another tear. Then another.

"Lilly!" I answered back, squeezing her tight.

"Miles." Owen whispered, embracing me. His protective arms made me feel so secure, like it was impossible for anything to hurt me. And yet, two more tears fell.

"Hey." Jackson greeted, encompassing me for a quick hug. "I missed you, sis."

"I missed you too."

Oliver and his mother hugged me together to make it less awkward. Finally, we all settled into seats. Oliver sat on one arm of the chair, Lilly in the seat beside him. Owen sat next to her, and his mother beside him. Dad and Heather took the two chairs, holding hands. And, abandoning my earlier post, I sat on both Lilly and Owens laps. It just felt so good to be close to them. It felt so good to feel loved; a feeling I had barely felt in four long, soul-searchingly desperate months.

Author's Note

I AM DONE!

YESSSSSSSSSSS!