Sunday Photo Fiction: Framed

The counselor watched me closely as she placed the Zen garden in front of me. “What is this for?” I asked. “Sometimes when stresses get to be too much it is a good exercise to find a healthy place to escape. This is one such place.

I was desperate so I picked up the little rake and began to make patterns in the sand. “Will this help me remember or forget? I asked. “I don’t know” she replied honestly. “But whichever it is we hope that the experience will be less traumatic with a calming activity such as this”.

“I didn’t want it to end, you know.” I confessed. “But he blamed me for everything. There were things that were my fault and I would take responsibility for them but every fight left me exhausted and confused. It was the mind games that sent me over the edge.”

Startled I looked up. “I didn’t kill him!” I protested and threw down the rake. “It was a suicide!” I yelled. “He has found a way to blame me, once again”.

I curled up in the chair and sobbed quietly until they came to take me back.


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