Dearest Readers…This is a fictional story. Any and all characters in this story are purely fictional. Any and all relations to real people is unintended. I hope you enjoy!

I thought I heard music coming from the door. But, I knew better than to go in because he always told me not to. “That’s not a place for little children. Only me and mommy.” There was a certain feeling coming from the door pulling me to it. But I never went in. Until that day.
I had come home from school and my mom was already at work. My dad was home but in the garage where he mainly worked on his off days. I go to the garage to tell him I was home but, he wasn’t there. I looked around the house and found my mom’s purse and phone on the table. I heard music and followed it to the door. “That’s not a place for little children.” My father’s voice echoed in my head but, I wasn’t a child anymore. I opened the door and a blinding light shielded my vision. I kept hearing my name and I went toward the voice. “Rhyla? Can you hear me?” I slowly nodded my head. “Where am I?” The woman sighed and had a smile on her face. “Welcome back. You are in the hospital. You’ve been here for several months. He had a tight hold on you this time didn’t he?”

This story is inspired by those who struggle with mental health each and every day. I am glad you are still here! You have friends and family who love you and people willing to help you feel like yourself again!