Davy What You Didnt Steal From Me 01 Midnight Sun Series Book

Monday, September 19.

I am sitting on this small purple couch.

It is hot in this room.

The only source of natural light is hidden by blackout shutters that are at least 10 years old.

I am alone with my tortured soul.

My brain is boiling.

I am fed up and my interlocutor is getting on my nerves.

This conversation is pointless. I don't want to continue. I want to be alone. I don't want to lose the little comfort I've built up. I don't want to lose this little glimmer of hope.

I want to get out, I want to get out of this vicious circle.

-Jack I have to!

This conversation is already annoying me. Yet I know it's not going to end any time soon.

-Why is that? You have no right to make me!

The incomprehension can be seen on my face. He knows what will happen if he abandons me. He has no right to leave me like that.

He is the one who helped me, supported me when I sank. I don't want anyone else's help.

-I'm telling you this for your own good. We're going to take away your custody of Mabel if you refuse!

My heart sinks at his remark.

Living without Mabel is impossible. She is my breath, my pride, my life preserver in the ocean of shit that is my life.

Anger rises in me but also a deep concern.

I need him to reassure me.

-WHAT! You're not serious now, I hope!

His face, usually so closed, reveals his thoughts to me. His complexion becomes sad as when one addresses condolences.

My heart splits while my face remains impassive, as always.

His voice is strangely soft, whereas it is usually deep and gruff.

-Jack, they think you're crazy.

This revelation is like a dagger in the heart.

It's hard for me to accept.

I angrily run my hand through my white hair. My breathing becomes jerky. I run my hands over my face. My heart beats in my chest.

Childhood memories take possession of me.

For a brief moment the wall I have erected collapses.

I see again this weak little kid in front of my eyes.

It is his fault, only his fault.

Am I at fault too?

Surely a little, otherwise it would be him sitting on the fucking sofa and not me.

My hatred towards him is triggered, I scream.

-SHIT!

My voice is low. A shiver runs down my spine.

My voice softens just as quickly, it's a whisper.

-I am not sick.

The Doc' runs his hand through his red beard. A compassionate smile appears on his lips.

The sound of his boots echoes in this small part of the room.

He sits down in front of me.

-In the eyes of the law, depression is a disease. Please Jack, accept.

I know he is right but I don't want to accept it.

I have been fighting for too long, I can't give up, not now.

What do I have to lose?

Everything.

What do I gain?

My sister's custody.

I rest my head against the back of the couch.

I breathe out of spite.

A question pops into my brain.

-If I go see this shrink, will social services leave me alone?

No answer.

I look at the beautiful world through the high window of my shrink's office. The life on the street strikes me. I feel like I am alone against this suffocating city that is Manhattan.

I turn my head towards Serge, he swallows his saliva violently.

My jaw tightens.

I wait for his answer.

-Jack...

I stare into his big green eyes.

The bile rises to my throat.

I want his fucking answer...

-Please Serge, answer me!

I shouted, loudly, too loudly. The stress is on my face, I don't even try to hide it.

Serge blows loudly, so hard that the few strands of hair that fall on his forehead are agitated.

His soft voice of the day, finally reveals to me my greatest terror.

-They won't let you go but let's say they'll be more lax in some way.

I think.

Everything jostles in my head.

My past and my present are fighting a duel. I have to take the right path, this is Mabel we're talking about. She deserves the best.

I don't want to risk losing my princess.

I weigh the pros and cons.

My brain screams at me to accept but my soul screams at me to refuse.

My brain screams at me to move on but my soul screams at me to fight my demons.

The decision is quick to make. It has to be, no one can know. No one can know.

-In this case I accept.

His big green eyes round up.

Shock shows on his wrinkled face.

-Really?

A thin smile freezes on my pale face.

I suddenly feel lighter, as if my subconscious is assuring me that I have made the right choice, or at least the best one for me.

-Yes, Doc. I accept. I'm doing it for Mabel, just so we're clear!

A smile brightened his bearded face.

But his eyes have closed, I can't read them anymore.

I usually excel in this field, I read with great ease in his eyes but there I can not.