The Good

I'm scared i'm scared i'm lost i'm scared help please help

"Laura."

please don't know what do to have to i'm sorry i'm sorry scared

"Laura, look at me."

so scared break broke i'm broken take me away gonna take me away

"Look at me."

take me away gonna take my shoes lock me up fail school never come back sorry so sorry so sorry so sor-

You know the magic kiss in the story, the one that breaks the evil spell? This wasn't like that. It was a bucket of cold water, a vial of smelling salts, a slap on the face.

Don't take me wrong, though, it wasn't a bad kiss. Quite the opposite - that's the point.

"You're okay. You're going to be okay."

Reality was a basement dorm room. Half was a huge, makeshift desk/workspace. Half was a mattress, clean green sheets, on the floor. I sat on the latter, blinking into the air. The neighbors were partying. The window was cracked open. The man in front of me was calm, steady. Firm.

"It's okay. You're going to make it through this."

I nodded and tried to take his hand. I already had it. He wouldn't let me let go.

"I'm here." He tucked my hair behind my ear. I studied his hand intently. Rough with calluses. Strong. Warm. Here.

"You're okay."

"Okay" was two days behind me and three months in front of me. "Okay" was just passed hell, then back again. It would take a long, hard road before I found "okay" again. But for a moment, then a minute, then an hour? I believed him.