Chapter 2

Back in my room, my phone was blowing up with notifications from the class group chat.

"Phoebe's mom is so scary. Thank god mine isn't like that."

"Right? I was too scared to say a word. But did you guys see Phoebe's episode on the big screen?"

"Yeah. Never thought the prettiest girl in class would actually be that disgusting."

After a long while, Scott stepped in and muted the entire chat, and my phone finally went quiet.

I scrolled through every message, my body trembling. Some of these people had never liked me, but others were my close friends, and one of them was the boy I had a crush on. I barely managed a bitter smile before my eyes started burning all over again.

Scott could mute the group chat, but he couldn't mute their social media. Everyone was talking about how I looked during my episode, and someone had even recorded it and posted the video online. Every feed was flooded with mockery and people gloating over my humiliation.

The more I read, the harder I fell apart. I powered my phone off and hurled it across the room, then buried my head in my hands and sobbed.

Mom heard me, and she shoved the door open. "Shut up! What are you crying about? Wasn't tonight enough for you?"

I dropped my gaze almost on reflex, shrinking into myself like a frightened animal. "I'm not having an episode, and I'm not crying because of the claustrophobia."

She considered that for a moment. "Then what is it?"

I told her about the group chat, the social media posts, everything, wringing my hands the whole time. Part of me was desperate for her to feel, even for just a second, that she'd done something wrong and might actually feel sorry for me.

She just listened with a blank expression and thought it over.

"So, it's not just the dark. You're afraid of what people think, too. Have I not told you? No daughter of Gail Barrett's will ever be a coward. You should be afraid of nothing!"

And right before my disbelieving eyes, she took the video of my episode and posted it straight to the Internet. Then she looked at me, cold as ice.

"Whatever you're afraid of, I will desensitize you to it."

I went completely still. It was like a hammer had come down and shattered the last shred of hope I'd ever had for her.

"Mom..."

I watched the notifications pile up on her phone screen, my voice giving out. "Why do you keep doing this to me?"

She didn't think she'd done anything wrong, and she didn't care about my despair. She hauled me to my feet and shoved me into the elevator without turning on the light.

The space was cramped and pitch-black. She stepped in with me, pulled out her phone, and started reading the comments out loud, one by one.

The elevator began to move. Everything was pitch-black except for the glow of her screen, its light carving shadows across her twisted face.

I clutched my head as the episode hit me full force. She kept reading, her eyes on me the whole time, and I clamped my hands over my ears, body and mind tearing apart at the seams.

My eyes went wide, and I was practically screaming. "Stop reading them! Let me out! Let me out!"

She didn't stop. She just looked at me, her expression unreadable.

"Pheebs, you need to overcome every last one of your fears. Don't be a coward, or else...

"Anyway, I'm doing this for your own good."

But I couldn't hear her anymore. All I could do was beg on autopilot. "Mom, I'm begging you, please let me out."

When it was finally over, I lay on the floor with my entire body rigid and my eyes vacant, lifeless. She finally put her phone away.

"Alright, today's desensitization session is over. Go back to your room." She crouched down and rubbed my head.

"Pheebs, I need you to understand that I'm doing all of this out of love."

The elevator had stopped moving. I lay flat on my back, my tears long dried up, like a puppet with no life left in it.

By the next morning, I still hadn't moved. My phone buzzed near my ear, and I answered it. It was the admissions office at Pennington University.

"Ms. Barrett, we respect your decision to withdraw. We wish you a speedy recovery and a bright future."

My mind went blank, and my throat was so dry it barely worked. "What did you say? Withdraw?"

The woman gave a small "Mhm."

"That's right. Your mother informed us you were ill and has already processed your withdrawal."