“Voices…” I answered.
“Mhm… What do these voices say?” My therapist asked. When I didn’t answer the therapist smiled at me. She did this to make me “feel better”. It didn’t help by the way.
I didn’t like my therapist because she thinks that she understands me just because she’s spoken to a lot of kids with Depression and OCD.
I was even more angry because no one knew the other problems I was dealing with. It was just stupid that she thought she knew me. She waited for me to answer. I stared her down.
She realized that I wasn’t going to answer her question, she changed the subject. “How is it at home? Are your parents getting along?”
I was fine talking about my family life, but it was always weird, considering that my therapist hasn’t even met my Mom. I rode my bike here, and my Mom called them instead of meeting in person.
“They’re getting along okay. My brother is still drinking a lot though…”
“That’s great to hear… About your parents I mean.”
“Marc hasn’t been at the house for six hours. We’re really worried. Especially since he’s the one driving.” I mentioned. My therapist was quiet, thinking over a comforting answer.
“I’m sure he’ll be home before Sunday.”
“I don’t think so.” I argued. My therapist sighed and started straightening her papers. This was usually a sign that the meeting was over.
I got up, left the office, and grabbed my bike. Before anyone could stop me, I left. I left quickly. Sticking around would end badly for me.
Once I got home, I started worrying. I could hear him. That was never good. Ever.
“Nico, it’s dinner time.” My Mom called. I could almost see her bright red lipstick, and her short tight dresses.
“Not hungry!” I called. I knew she would yell at me. Things like: “I slave over the stove for hours to prepare you dinner and you tell me that you aren’t hungry?!” Yet, she didn’t yell.
She didn’t say anything. I could just hear her sitting down, putting my plate back and eating quietly.
I didn’t like this. She was always fighting. This wasn’t normal. How do I fix this?!
You don’t. Go away. Then lemme help. No. I won’t hurt her. Yes you will.
Nonono, I will make her death quick and painless. Stop talking to me. I never agree. Fine then! I will take this by force! Please-!
Nicko stretched his legs and looked around his room. He started walking downstairs. “Yo,-” Nicko made his voice lighter to sound more like Nico. “Hi, Mom. I um, changed my mind.
What’s for dinner?”
Nico’s Mom looked at Nicko and made a face. “I’m waiting for Dad.”
“He’s not coming.” Nicko answered quickly. “You know you guys have been fighting too much. He’s probably just in his room… Eating takeout.”
“I just said the truth.” After that, there wasn’t any talking. Dad didn’t come. They finished dinner and Nicko returned to his room.
The next morning when I awoke gasping on my bed, I came to the realization that my Mother wasn’t in the house. She never left the house. This was very bad. “Nicko…” I whispered.
“Not good, not good.”
I got up and started walking to my Dad’s room. Surely he was here. He didn’t leave in the mornings. Luckily, it was Saturday so I didn’t need to worry about school.
But that also made it even worse because Saturday was my Mom’s day off. It was usually filled with popcorn and movies.
“Dad?” I called, knocking on his door. Since last year when my parents had a huge fight he’d had his own room. Everyone did. Mom, Dad, Marc, and me. I also used to be so close to Marc.
It was sad that Marc was so far away now. Mentally and physically. He doesn’t care about you. I ignored it by knocking harder.
“What is it?!” I heard my Dad bellow.
“Nico.” I called. When I didn’t have an answer I knew it was okay to enter. “Where’s Mom?” I asked, once inside.
“What do you mean? She isn’t here?” Nonono! I ran out of the room and into my Mother’s. No notes, no papers, no books, no secret messages. Nothing.
“She must’ve left something...unless…” I didn’t want to think about it. No one could’ve taken her. Why would anyone? Because she was a bad woman with a terrible husband. And gave birth to 2 monstrous children. SHUT UP!
It’s not her fault that Marc drinks… Yes it is. She didn’t tell him not to drink. She practically encouraged him. Could’ve told him not to do drugs too. He doesn’t do drugs. That’s what you think. Haha!
On Sunday we still had no sign of Marc, or my Mother. My Dad let me do my own thing. He haven’t called the Police for Marc yet.
I knew no one would take a child seriously, considering we constantly twist the truth.
Next day. Monday. School. No brother. No Mother. Nothing comforting. Once I sat down on my homeroom desk I knew something was wrong. Everyone was staring at me like I’d dressed in the dark.
I was so insecure that I even checked my clothing to make sure. When I saw that I was perfectly fine, I just started ignoring them. Mr. Granus walked into our room. I like Mr, Granus.
He was nice to me. I also think that he is my only teacher aware or my Depression and OCD of Intrusive Thoughts. He wasn’t like my therapist. He didn’t try to talk me out of anything.
He just smiled at me. And it wasn’t a fake smile “to make me feel better”, it was a real smile. Just a little reminder that there are good people out there.
When he saw everyone looking at me, he jumped right into the lesson so everyone would stop.
After a couple minutes, no one stopped.
“Hey, class. You know we have the no staring rule.” Mr. Granus said. Most kids looked at him but 1 or 2 raised their hands. “What is it, Luke?”
“Her brother has been missing for over a day. 34 hours. And her Mom is also missing.” Luke pointed out.
“And how do you know this?” Mr. Granus asked.
“Everyone knows, Mr. Granus. It’s everywhere on the internet. Posted by someone anonymous. Nico’s family has problems. It’s not our fault that we want to see her reaction.” Luke replied. Mr.
Granus looked at his class. A few kids nodded, confirming it. A couple just had that look in their eyes, and the rest didn’t show any signs. I looked down nervously.
Everyone knew? How? My brother doesn’t have social media, he couldn’t have… My Mom wouldn’t. I don’t see why my Dad would… How?”
“Well… This is Nico’s business. No family is perfect. In fact, lemme tell you guys a secret. My Dad drank, and when he started hitting my Mom, we moved out and let him do his own thing."
Apparently this news startled everyone. Mr. Granus was way too nice to have a family like that. Anyway, everyone seemed to have forgotten about me… For now.
I mouthed “thank you” to my teacher before leaving when the bell rang. He nodded. It was probably a little hard to tell a bunch of kids this kind of thing.
It was you. I mean me. Well, you. But me. No! No! How, how could you? It’s so wrong! I am apparently a very wrong “person”. Leave me alone. I don’t want to be pushed around anymore.
I am not pushing you around. You are pushing yourself around. I am not. Prove it. STOP! I do not have to prove a thing to you. To you, of all “people”! I am just your mind and thoughts.
No! No, no, no, no!
The next day after school I went to see my therapist. She seemed like she would be extremely annoying today.
“Nico, how are you?”
“Nico you know that you are here to open up, right? Why are you here if you won’t?”
“My Mother said I must go. This was not optional.” I said, my tone a little sassy.
“Well, since you’re here, you should let me help you.”
“What if I don’t want help…”
“You know what Nico?” My therapist said.
“What?” I asked, not caring.
“If you don’t want help, I won’t give it. This will be our last...talk.”