Splinters: Part One

Part One | 44

Chapter 44

Why She Left

"So, you've been quite the rebel lately, haven't you," Dr. Johnson smiled lightly.

I shrugged. "I guess so."

It had been one whole day since I've returned from New York and my sudden leaving was honestly all I could think about. Words couldn't describe the guilt I felt.

Dr. Johnson changed positions. He usually did this when he decided to take a new approach to a subject. He placed his clipboard on the table before lifting his leg over the other and leaned forward.

"Why'd you run away to New York, Brayden?"

I was about to explain, but stopped myself and sighed. Trying to collect my thoughts, I looked away. "I don't necessarily... Think it was running away. I just... Got so angry. I-I don't know what happened."

"But you left."

I nodded. "Yeah, I left, but I was gonna come back. Melissa just wouldn't let me see Collie, and I got mad. I'm not saying that what I did was okay because it wasn't, but I didn't agree with her, and I just felt like I couldn't breathe anymore."

"So in other words you felt like you had to get out of the house."

"Honestly, Dr. Johnson, I don't even know. It all just happened."

He took off his glasses. "Where did you go?"

I glanced at him, embarrassed. "St. Anne's first."

"To..." he trailed off.

"I was hoping to see Josephine."

"Your friend," he remembered.

"Yeah. But she wasn't there, so I saw Riley and Bobby instead."

He nodded.

"But something else happened."

He narrowed his eyes, obviously interested. "Like what?"

I hadn't told anyone about what Mrs. Armstrong giving me the letter my father had written to me, and it was killing me. I had set it behind my computer underneath my lamp in hopes that no one would find it. I wasn't ready to read it and I wasn't about to let anybody read it for me.

"Mrs. Armstrong, the lady that was in charge of things at my orphanage; she gave me a letter."

"What kind of letter?" he asked, intrigued.

I glanced at him, embarrassed to look at him in the eye for some reason. "It was a letter from my dad. Obviously, he wrote it before he died but... It's, like, his final words to me, I guess."

"Have you read it?"

I shook my head vigorously, which made him realize what I thought towards the letter.

"I mean, they're his last words. What if it says something I don't like or he admits something I don't want to know about?"

"Do you want to read it?"

"I'm not really curious as to what it says, really. I'm scared to do it."

"Well I know you, Brayden, and eventually, you'll read it."

I nodded. "Mrs. Armstrong told me to read it when I'm ready."

"And you should do exactly that. Read it when you're ready."

...

The drive home was quiet, although I knew Melissa really wanted to question me on my running away. I had overheard Dr. Johnson explain to her that when children come back from leaving, you should have open arms and not interrogate them on what they've done or why they did it. Instead, wait for the right moment and have everyone sit down to discuss what the child (me) will do differently. Sadly and thankfully, we haven't done that yet, but I had a feeling it would be soon.