InsaneJournal

When Hannah was first admitted to the mental hospital, her therapy was one-on-one with her psychiatrist, but after a few years and some progress she was introduced to group therapy. For months she refused to talk despite the therapist's best attempts, but during her last two years she began to open up. The others in group had been through similar experiences - two had previously attempted suicide, and nearly all had been abused in some way - and they understood, in a strange way. They'd all been through things they couldn't handle and hit rock bottom, lashing out at either themselves or others.

Once she'd been released, though, she'd gone back to weekly therapy sessions with her psychiatrist that soon became every other week. She was pleased with the progress Hannah was making, and even though she still prescribed two kinds of medication, the time when she would no longer need them was coming.

Or so she thought.

Hannah called her psychiatrist the evening the discovered Emery was gone, which resulted in a last-minute session the next day. She'd told the doctor about Emery and Liam moving in - she'd only given their first names - and described how she knew Emery, how glad she was that he'd moved in and she couldn't wait to see him again. Now she found herself telling her psychiatrist that he'd left without any warning, rambling on about how good he'd been to her but she hadn't been there when he needed her and it was her fault he was gone.

She refused to talk about Liam, though.

By the end of the session, her psychiatrist had recommended that she try attending one of her group therapy sessions at one of the smaller hospitals. She thought it might help to vocalize her feelings about Emery's departure, not to mention the fact that she suspected there was a reason Hannah wouldn't talk about his brother.

So here she was in group therapy, surrounded by people she didn't know but obviously needed to be here as much as she did. Her psychiatrist was leading the session, although she said she was there as a 'facilitator' more than anything else, and this was supposed to be a place for them to share their feelings without fear of judgment. First each member - including herself - had introduced themselves, and although a few names sounded familiar, she didn't recognize any faces.

She did notice that all of the people seated in the circle were female. Only one was a redhead, one hand swathed in bandages with bruises and marks visible on her exposed skin. Her own bruises had faded, and the knife wound on her shoulder was almost completely healed.

Maybe she'd share, but for now she was content to listen.