I stare at my supposed new therapist blankly, not even being able to feel any emotion. It's been nearly a month since I've left that cursed house that I was held in, my parents and sister held within the confines of the house that never had any joy. We didn't get out a lot and only had our basic needs met.
"How are you feeling today? " She asks me. I can't even remember her name. I look at the name tag on her shirt 'Dr. Love' what a stupid name.
"Fine," I reply shortly, no emotion in my voice at all. It feels so foreign to me after going 16 years being verbally and physically abused and being forced to learn not to express anything that would lead to me getting hit. I had learned to mask any emotions or feeling that I may have been feeling.
"How's living with your aunt?" She asks.
"I don't like being a burden to her." I say blankly. "She's very kind to me and is trying her hardest to make sure I'm happy, but I feel guilty because she doesn't need to spend any more time on me, or any money, than she already has"
"How does it make you feel that she has money to spend on you?" She asks.
I don't answer her question. "I don't want to talk anymore. Please let me out."
The therapist, whose name I still don't care about, is a bit surprised and starts to argue, "But Elijah, I think that we can work something out"
I stare blankly at the ground. "I'm sure that you're right. Now I think your session is over"
"Elijah, I am your therapist. It doesn't end until I say it ends and you aren't getting out of it today." She argues. I give a heavy sigh and stare at her. "Do I look like I give a fuck what you want?" I ask her and start to limp my way over to the door. I start to open it before she locks it from where she sits at her desk and puts a piece of paper into a file and gets up, coming over to the door and blocking my escape. I narrow my eyes at her. "You have no right to keep me here against my will. You are no police officer." I tell her, my voice growing angry. "Move before I make you move." She ignores me, looking me in the eye, and she gets into my personal space.
I'm about to tell her one last time before I see her expression and then look away, closing my eyes and take a deep breath in and out before I turn around and head back to the chair that I sat down on, not saying anything.
She seems pleased that I listened to her and walks back over to her seat and sits down. "How do you feel when someone tells you that they don't want to listen to what you're saying and refuse to let you leave?" she asks. I give a sigh again before speaking. "Annoyed, pissed off, tired, bored, I don't know what else I should feel"
I have scars and burn marks on my body. I catch her staring at all of them.
"Take a picture. It'll last longer," I remarked angrily.
She gives me a shocked expression before putting a note down and continues.
I'm still looking down. My eyes narrowed at her. "Are we almost done?" I asked her angrily, she gives me a warning look and I roll my eyes at her before turning my head to look back down again. "Fine." I said shortly, looking at my phone for the time.
"Have you done any of your schoolwork?" she asks me. I scoff a laugh, not looking up. "No, I'm still in school."
"Have you?" I ask her and she seems annoyed at that, her pen clicking and then she scribbles something down. She is trying so hard not to seem mad, but she isn't doing a good job of hiding it. I roll my eyes and she gives me an angry glare, and I turn my head back down. I hate talking to this lady. She's just too full of herself. "I want you to do me a favour. I want you to go and talk to the other patients here. They have lost a family member and have gone through the same things that you have. It's always good to talk to other people about the same. situation."
"No, thanks" I reply.
"Elijah, I am asking you to," she said and I narrow my eyes.
"Well then, I'm telling you no." I tell her and start to get up and go back to the door. "Let me out, please. I don't want to talk anymore," I said angrily, trying to reach the door, but the door doesn't budge. I start to try to unlock it but nothing. I'm so angry and upset I can't hold back anymore tears as they fall down my cheeks. I hit my hand against the door and let out an angry groan before turning back and walking back over to the seat. "Fine." I tell her angrily. "I'm here, I'm staying. Let's talk." I say, trying to seem calm, but my body is shaking. She has no right to keep me here. She just sighs, putting down notes again, not saying anything, and looks up at me, giving me an unemotional expression.
"Why do you seem so angry? What happened in the past to make you so angry?"
"I'm not angry. I just don't want to be here and I don't want to talk about the past." I tell her. "And I don't feel comfortable talking about what happened with my family because it makes me upset" I said, trying not to show any emotions but my body starts shaking even more, and my heart is beating fast, I can hear it in my head, it's so loud.
"If you don't want to talk about your family, then why were you so eager to get away from here?" she asked, and I just stare blankly at the wall. "It makes me upset being here, not just because of this situation. I hate people because they think they know better than me. I don't need anyone to take care of me. I can take care of myself just fine. I can see what my aunt is trying to do, and it's really nice that she's doing that for me, but I just don't think I deserve that, and I'm worried about how it's going to affect her in the long run"
I keep talking and then realize I said something that I didn't mean to.
"Oh, so you are worried about her, then?" She asked, and I just keep looking down at the ground. My body is shaking even more. "No," I tell her, but it doesn't seem like she's buying it, and she starts to ask more questions. "You know you can tell me anything," she said, trying to sound sincere but I can tell she isn't. I hate when people think that they are entitled to my business and personal life. They always say that I can tell them anything but they aren't being truthful about it, and that really annoys me.
"Well, you aren't getting it because there isn't anything to get." I tell her and then she writes something down.
I really just want to go home. My body is starting to feel tired. My legs are sore and my throat is dry. I keep thinking about that woman that I saw earlier. She looks so pretty. She reminds me so much of Galina. My heart starts hurting as I remember Galina. I miss her. I start to look around the room to distract myself. My eyes keep looking down at my hands. They have a few small scars and some cuts on them. I pick at some of them with my fingers. "It's rude to stare," I tell the doctor, and she looks up, giving me a look of surprise. "I didn't realize I was doing that. My apologies," she says, and I look away. "It's alright," I replied and then look back at her. She has dark hair and dark brown eyes, and she wears glasses. Her lips are very pretty and seem soft. Her face is beautiful. I notice her ring on her left hand. "Are you married?" I ask her and she seems surprised at this question, but smiles. "Yes, I am, why do you ask?" she replied, and I look down again.
"Just curious. What's your husband like?" I asked her. She smiles, writing something down and then she looks back at me. "He's a wonderful man," she says, smiling. She looks happy as she thinks about him. Her cheeks flush a bit pink as she talks about him. "What is his name? I'm curious." I ask her.
She looks at me with surprise and smiles, and then looks down, her cheeks growing red. She writes something down. "Well, my husband's name is William, and he is the love of my life. We met in college and he was so kind to me and always knew how to make me happy, so I asked him out." she said. She seems embarrassed, but also happy as she thinks about him. "And then, he said yes and we've been together ever since," she said and smiled. She stops and looks up at me.
"You do know that in therapy you are supposed to talk about yourself, stop trying to deflect the conversation from you."
I don't respond to this, and she just writes something down again. She seems to be taking more notes now than she did during our entire session. I don't mind the notes though because it keeps her occupied with something, so she can't talk to me. "Why do you keep picking at your fingers?" She asks and I look up from them and stop what I'm doing. My fingers have started bleeding again. I look around the room to find something to stop them. She looks around as well. I see a small first aid kit in the corner, and she points at it. I look over to see what it is. There's a small first aid kit on a counter near the door. She smiles as she points towards it, and then she gets up and walks over to the first aid kit, picking up the first aid kit. I'm surprised when she grabs a small bottle and then a roll of bandage from the box and then she comes back and hands the things to me.
"Here you go, Elijah," she said and then smiled, walking over to me and sitting in the seat across from me. She reaches for my hand, and I just hold it up so she can put the bandage around it, not looking up at her.
I notice how nice her hands look when she does this. I want to look up and stare into her eyes. She doesn't have makeup on, but she is still very pretty. I wish I had my phone, so I could take a picture of her. It makes me want to ask for her phone number. I start thinking about it, wondering if I should ask. "Your hands are so soft and nice," I told her, looking down. She stops what she's doing and looks up at me with a small smile. "Thanks," she replied , and then she looks up and smiles at me. "You're very sweet. It makes me feel better," she told me and smiles as she finishes up my hand and looks over at the clock and smiles. "Oh, our session is over," she said, sounding a little upset as she finishes up my hand and hands me a piece of paper, telling me when to come back, and she gets up and heads over to the door. She stops, turning around and smiling. "See you next time, Elijah," she said. She then goes over and opens the door for me and then smiles as I leave.