Chapter 2 : "Intervention's aren't fun, but they're necessary."

The sky was cowl-black, the sound of thunder crashing and cracking as an endless torrent of rain showered down towards the earth. I stared out the window, captivated by how the sky seemed rumpled as the clouds were deep and in different shades. There was no weather that could perfectly describe what I was feeling inside as accurately as this potential storm did. Dark. Cold. Numb.

“Aesa… Aesa, are you listening to me?”

Those words made me snap out of my thoughts and I was cruelly jolted back to the reality of the tan beige psychologist's room that I was currently stuck in. Talking to someone about my trauma wasn't my idea of fun but my parents insisted I go or they'd force me to drop out of university.

Needless to say, I didn't have much choice in the matter.

I made a point of ignoring my psychologist’s attempts of trying to get me to talk. I didn’t know why he was so adamant about it, how he could be so unrelenting. This is our third session so far and I hadn’t said more than a word to him. What makes him think I’d feel like talking now?

“Aesa, I know you’re in a really tough position right now.”

No, you don’t.

“I know how you’re feeling right now.”

You don’t have the slightest idea.

“The deaths of your housemates hit you pretty hard.”

‘Hard’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.

“But that doesn’t mean that you should shut yourself off like this. It’s not healthy.”

Now that comment made me turn away from the window to look at him, almost in disbelief.

Not healthy?

My friends are dead. They’re never coming back. I’ll never hear Eunchae’s nagging ever again. Or laugh and cry with Mijoo as we watched those cheesy romcoms that she always loved. Or secretly creep into Seohyeon’s bed and listen to those terrifying horror stories that only she could tell.

And I’m getting crap because apparently grieving for my friends' death was 'not healthy'?

“Bull.” I muttered under my breath.

“I’m sorry?”

I bit my lip tightly, to the point where it almost drew blood. Apparently, it still was loud enough that my shrink was still able to hear me. Damn it Aesa! You should have just kept your mouth shut!

But then again, my mind reasoned. You've already crossed to the point of no return. Might as well roll with it while you can.

 “I said this is bull!” I said, raising my voice. “It’s barely been a month since my friends died and you’re already asking me to waltz around and live my life as though nothing happened?”

“I wasn’t implying-” He started to say but I cut him off.

“They weren’t just my friends.” I said, rising to my feet. “We live together; they were like my family when I’m far away from home. I know my parents paid you to ‘get their little girl back’ but for god’s sake all I’m asking is for you to leave me alone for a while so I can sit down and grieve for my friends in peace. Is that too much to ask?!”

“Kim Aesa-ssi…”

I decided that I’d had enough of all this. Having someone trying to prod and poke into my brain when all I want is to be left alone for a while is terrible. And it was obvious my parents cared much more about their reputation then their own daughter if they were willing to hire a shrink to bring their eldest daughter back to normalcy.

Before the shrink could react, I quickly grabbed my Vinci bag on the couch next to me and speed-walked my way out of the psychologists’ room before anyone could stop me.

The shrink must’ve taken my words into heart because I managed to get through the entire clinic without any resistance at all. Maybe he thinks I finally made some progress after my breakdown after my continued silence. Who knows?

I walked a few more meters further away from the clinic before calling for an Uber, not willing to risk the potential awkward stare I’d get from the driver as if I was some crazy person. That might be a little irrational, I know, but I might really have a nervous breakdown if I get just one more sympathetic look.

I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, trying to calm myself and trying to hold back the racking sobs and tears that seemed to come so easily to me these past few weeks. There was nothing – nothing – worse than losing someone that you love. It’s like an endless pit of darkness is consuming your insides, and it seems to grow bigger as time goes by and you realize that they’re never coming back.

Despite all the ‘support’ I keep getting, I’ve never felt more alone in my entire life.

Part of it was my fault, I know. I’ve kept myself locked up in my room since the accident and rejected all forms of human contact but honestly, I just wanted to be left alone. All I want to do is wallow in my grief and just drown in it.

Just like they did, that day when the car crashed into the lake.

The car I should and would have been in if I didn’t decide to sleep early that night.

The moment I stepped foot into my room, the only thing I wanted to do was to hop into bed and sleep the day away. Every single therapy session seemed to mentally exhaust me, even the times when I said nothing, because the therapist keeps bringing back memories and thoughts that I prefer to be locked up within the darkest recesses of my mind.

I quickly threw off my shoes and flopped onto my new bed, staring blankly at the cream ceiling above me.

After the accident, I refused to stay in my old house much longer. Their things were still scattered everywhere, and I could still smell them. It was as though they had gone out for the moment and would be coming back soon. It became too much for me so my parents decided to move me to a studio apartment just next to the campus instead of assigning me to a new house with new housemates.

I had to admit, that was a pretty generous gesture. I don’t know if I could take being moved into another house with new people so soon after what happened. I could still remember the looks on their parents’ faces when all of us were gathered at the police station where they briefed us about how a drunk driver had swerved into my best friends’ car, drove them off the bridge where they drowned in the lake beneath.

It was the worst day of my life by far, and I couldn’t help but feel guilty towards them. All their daughters’ were dead and here I was, sitting in front of them, alive and well. Well, barely.

I was just about to tuck into my covers and shut my eyes when I heard the incessant sound of doorbell being rung over and over again. I tried to ignore it and just my head in my pillows but the doorbell ringing became more and more frequent to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore!

With an angry grunt, I got up out of bed and headed towards the door, scowling all the way. There were only a few people outside of my family who knew about my new address so I was pretty sure of the identity of the incessant