Cursed Heart (Cursed #2.5) Read Free Page A

tell me more about this mysterious woman?”
    “I’m not ready,” I respond, looking at him with a glare.
    “Okay, fair enough, let’s take a step back. You mentioned being in foster homes; tell me more about that time of your life.”
    Shaking my head, I squeeze my eyes tightly closed.
    “I can picture every home that I was sent to, each foster parent that pretended to want me with them.  It was always an act, a show where they pretended that I was the greatest gift they had ever received…only it was all fake.”
    “Why do you feel as though it was all an act?” he asks in a compassionate tone.
    “Because as soon as I’d move into the home, things changed—I wasn’t part of the family like the other children. No matter how hard I’d try to fit in, I was pushed away.”
    “How did that make you feel?”
    “Nonexistent, like I didn’t matter to them.”
    “That had to be very difficult to cope with.”
    “It was unbearable. I was used, abused, and after time, they sent me to another family. It didn’t take long for me to realize that I’d never be a part of a family. I was dealt a raw deal and had to live with it until I was old enough to be on my own. The more I was pushed around from house to house, the worse my behaviors became. I had no other choice but to stand on my own, and anyone that got in my way was knocked down.”
    “You became a bully to protect yourself?”
    Opening my eyes, I realize what he’s just said. I became a monster to hide, to heal, and to make sure no one would ever hurt me again.
    “Yes, in a way I suppose you could say that. The further I pushed people away, the better off I felt. It wasn’t ‘til my eighteenth birthday that I woke up and wanted to find my own way out. I finally was able to break free on my own and there wasn’t anyone I’d let stand in my way.”
    The sound of the clock pulls my attention to the side of the room. Shit, that hour flew by and I was finally starting to feel like I could open up.
    “You’ve made amazing progress today, Christian. You should feel proud.”
    Nodding my head, I lean forward, staring down toward my shoes.
    “I want you to start writing in a journal. Be sure to notate your emotions of anger, happiness, sadness, and frustration. Next time you come in, we’ll review it. I want to see how you’re beginning to progress now that you’ve been able to open up. You did great today; it’s a good start.”
    Lifting my head, I look into his yes. His tone is sincere as well as the expression on his face.
    “Thanks, doc, will do.”
    Standing from the chair, I take a step forward, shake his hand, and make my way out of his office. Today was a breakthrough; I haven’t talked to anyone about my feelings, let alone my past.
    With a small sense of pride, I stride through the parking lot toward my car. I need to make a stop before heading home; someone is in need of a journal.
     

 
    Chapter 3
    It’s been a long, busy shift at work tonight and I just received orders to head down to the emergency room. Just fucking great; I only have an hour left on my shift. This one better be quick and painless—I want to get out of here on time and fall into a deep sleep on my bed.
    The past few days, all I’ve been able to do is sort through my emotions; I’m mentally and physically exhausted. I’ve done exactly what Dr. Jonestown suggested and started to write things down in a journal. From the time I wake up ‘til I rest my head on my pillow, I think about the ways in which I’ve reacted to myself and those around me. For the most part, I’m a loner; I won’t let anyone in unless I know I can trust them. Being so afraid I’ll hurt someone, there are very few that I’ll allow close to me…no trust is good enough for me.
    I locate a wheelchair in the hallway and make my way to the elevator…time for my next patient transport. Hitting the button for the proper floor, the doors close and I begin the