open to: mutuals, non mutuals, m / f / nonbinary / trans / anyone.
context: malia is in group therapy at eichen house.
malia sat at the edge of her chair, her fingers curling around the rough seams of her jeans. the room smelled faintly of disinfectant and stale coffee, and the fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead. she could feel the other patients’ eyes on her, waiting, but she kept her gaze locked on the floor, her jaw tightening.
“fine,” she said finally, her voice flat and guarded. “you want me to talk about guilt? let’s talk about guilt.”
her words were sharp, but there was a tremor beneath them. she shifted uncomfortably, her foot tapping anxiously against the linoleum. “it was my fault. all of it. the crash, my mom, my sister. if i hadn’t...” she trailed off, biting the inside of her cheek.
no, she couldn’t tell them that part. not here, not in this place where too many people already looked at her like she was broken. they didn’t need to know what she was. they wouldn’t understand.
she cleared her throat, her hands clenching into fists. “i was ten. we were driving home late at night. i don’t even remember why we were out so late. i just remember sitting in the back seat, my mom arguing with me about something stupid, my sister whining about it being cold. and i just... snapped.”
her voice cracked slightly, but she swallowed it down, pushing on. “i was angry, and i couldn’t hold it in. it felt like something was... breaking inside me. i told my mom something was wrong, but she didn’t believe me. she thought i was being dramatic.”
malia’s nails dug into her palms as her breathing grew shallow. “and then i blacked out. when i came to, the car was upside down. there was glass everywhere, and everything smelled like blood and smoke. i remember screaming for them, but it was already too late. they were gone.”
her voice trembled, and she shook her head, trying to push back the tears stinging her eyes. “i don’t know what happened. maybe i did something. maybe i didn’t. but they’re gone, and it’s my fault. i should’ve been able to stop it. i should’ve done something. instead, i...”
she stopped, her breath hitching, and dragged her sleeve across her face, clearing away the tears that had escaped. she glanced around the circle, her gaze hardening, daring someone to press her for more. “they keep saying it wasn’t my fault. that i was just a kid. but they weren’t there. they didn’t see what i saw.”
her voice dropped to a whisper. “i see it every time i close my eyes.”
she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as if to hold herself together. “so, yeah. that’s what guilt feels like. like it’s eating you alive. and no matter what anyone says, you know it’ll never go away.”
her lips pressed into a thin line, and she stared down at the floor again, her walls snapping back into place. “that’s it. that’s all i’ve got. can we move on now?”
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