Dalton
Somehow I'm more nervous as I pull up to Magnolia Behavioral Health than I was last time. Before, it was just about seeing Mandy, making sure she was doing okay.
This visit?
It's about confronting demons.
Mine and hers.
Walking in is a blur, although I'm sure I do the same song and dance I did before.
“Mr. Barnett, we'll be going right this way."
I follow the woman in front of me, almost telling her Mr. Barnett is my father. I'm not used to so much formality. We walk down blank corridors. No pictures grace these walls.
There's no fake-ass family portrait of smiling people who have no clue who the other person is. There aren't cookie-cutter couples pretending to be so in love it's sickening.
These are bare; much like my emotions have been for the past few months. It's a
