Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
A droplet of water landed on the back of my hand. I glanced down, only to catch another drop fall on my ring finger’s knuckle—they were coming from my cheeks. Exhaustion rippled over me, consuming all my strength. I couldn’t even lift my hands to wipe away the tears. So I focused on watching the journeying clouds again, wishing I could be like them, constantly moving, never having time to stop to process and think.
Thinking gave me space to break.
I didn’t even realize someone had sat down beside me until I felt a subtle shift in the air around me. The clouds still held my attention.
“Anxiety attack again?” Rob said. I nodded, my hair rubbing against the loose bark that was scarcely holding on to its home. Rob was only in his thirties. He was kind and was exceptional at what he did. He helped so many people. Over the past four years I’d seen a myriad of teenagers come through the therapy center’s door and leave, changed, empowered, and able to function once more in the world.
I was simply broken.
I didn’t know how to heal, how to put myself back together again. The truth was, when Poppy died, all light vanished from my world, and I’d been stumbling around in the dark ever since.
Rob didn’t speak for a while but finally said, “We have to change tactics, Savannah.” The edge of my lips lifted as I saw what looked like a daisy form in a cloud. Ida loved daisies. They were her favorite flower. Rob leaned back against the tree beside me, sharing the wide trunk. “We’ve received some funding.” His words trickled into my ears one syllable at a time as the world, painstakingly slowly, began to stitch itself back together. “There’s a trip,” he said, letting that hang in the air between us. I blinked, the sun’s afterimage dancing in the darkness when I squeezed my eyes shut to banish its blinding glow.
“I want you to go on it,” Rob said. I froze and eventually turned my head to face him. Rob had short red hair, freckles, and piercing green eyes. He was a walking autumnal color palette. He was also a survivor. To say I admired him was an understatement. Punished as a teen for his sexuality by those who were meant to love him, he had fought his way through hell to reach freedom and happiness, now helping others who struggled in their own ways too.
“There’s a trip … I want you to go on it …”
Those delayed words filtered into my brain and my old friend anxiety began to reemerge.
“A small group from all over the States is going on a five-country journey. One of healing.” He rolled his head to look up at the clouds that had previously captured my attention. “Teens dealing with grief.”
I shook my head, every second making it more and more pronounced.
“I can’t,” I whispered, instant fear wrapping around my voice.
Rob’s smile was sympathetic, but he said, “I’ve already spoken to your parents, Savannah. They’ve agreed it would be good for you. We’ve already secured your place.”
“No!”
“You’ve already finished high school. And you’ve gotten into Harvard. Harvard, Savannah. That’s incredible.” Rob briefly paused to think but then added, “That’s Boston. Far, far away from here.”
I understood the subtext. I couldn’t function at home, so how on earth would I function in another state at college?
When Poppy died, I threw myself into my studies. I had to occupy my mind at all times. It was how I stayed above water. I had always been studious. I had always been the smart one. The bookworm. The one who talked of physics and equations and molecular structures. Ida was the loud one, the dramatic sister, the funny one, capturing all the attention—in all the best ways. And Poppy … Poppy had been the dreamer. She had been the believer, the creative one, the one with music and never-ending happiness and hope in her heart.
The one who would have changed the world.
When Pops died, I couldn’t face school anymore—people’s stares, the sorrowful glances, the spotlight that followed me around, broadcasting me as the girl who had watched her older sister die. So I homeschooled, and I graduated early. Harvard accepted me; I’d done enough to get in. But with all my schoolwork complete, my newly found time became my enemy. Idle hours spent reliving Poppy fading, her slowly dying before us. Endless minutes that gave my anxiety breathing room to strike, to draw out its advances like mercenaries toying with an easy target. I felt Poppy’s absence like a noose pulling tighter around my neck day by day.
“I know it might seem frightening. I know it’s something you might not believe you can do,” Rob said, his voice gentle and encouraging. “But you can, Savannah. I believe in you.” I felt my bottom lip tremble as I met his eyes. “I’m not giving up.” A gentle smile. “We’re going to get you through this. We’re going to get you to Harvard this fall. And you’re going to thrive.”