After the Silence.

“You know, I was excited to show them my final results. I had improved a lot since the previous year. But instead…”

I pause for a moment. It takes me a little time to get the words out of my throat.

“Instead, I saw their bodies hanging from the ceiling. I was little at that time—I was six. The concept of suicide was beyond my understanding. But as I grew older, I began to understand what had really happened at that time.”

I look up at the ceiling. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“The worst part is, nobody even told me why they did it.”

I could feel the silence settle after I had finished speaking. This was the third or fourth time I had told Dr. Bennett about the incident that had been stuck in my mind for ten years. I waited for her to speak.

“What did you feel at that moment?” she said.

“I don’t know, I was... confused, I really didn’t understand what was happening. I just felt like something was off. I don’t know,” I said, looking at my shoes.

“Witnessing something like that at such a young age can be quite traumatic. How often do you think about it?”

“Almost every time. Sometimes I even dream about it too. I just can’t get it out of my head.” I scoff.

“See, it’s pretty normal that you have thoughts about this. I’m gonna tell you some...”

I have heard her talk about methods to control my thoughts or to be in the present moment many times. I’m kind of tired of these sessions, this doesn’t help me. Aunt Linda told me this would help. But this doesn’t. The words get in my head and get out of it at the same time. I just stare blankly into her face.

“Lucas? Are you listening?”

“Yeah, yeah, I am. Continue, please.” I snap back to the present.

“See, Lucas. If you really want the best for yourself, you have to pay attention to it.” She checks the time at her wristwatch.

“So, Lucas. We can continue this in the next session.”

“Okay, Dr. Bennett. I’ll... I’ll see you in the next session,” I say while I’m standing up from the chair.

“Bye.” She says.

“Bye.”

I say while stepping out of the room. I walk through the corridor, putting on headphones, and I play the playlist I’ve created from my downloaded audios.

Outside, my bike was parked. I ride my bike to my home. I just had a therapy session, but the thoughts of my mom and dad didn't leave my mind. I have those thoughts over and over and over and over again. The therapy sessions don't help me. And somehow… it feels like this isn’t over.