~gloom's POV~
'How do I even begin to explain?' he leaned back truly puzzled.
'Maybe you should start with her name, and maybe her problem' she reasoned.
'Well, her name is Hilda. But, you can call her...Gloom' he looked intently at me. This was another place I was registering a fake name. I wanted to be the real me, even if that included abandoning my mood-suiting, seven years-into, weird name. I would bear a completely opposite name if that meant I was being original and myself.
'Or Ash' I was quick yet hesitant to add. I glanced at Uncle Kay and he was staring at me in shocked disbelief.
'I prefer Ash' she stated casually. I was shocked at first because no-one had ever heard my name and not blinked simultaneously, but I reasoned that she was a therapeutic doctor so she had heard weirder names than mine. 'Pretty names though' she added which stunned both of us. My names were far from pretty. She had to have heard berserk names before me to think they were. 'Problem? Wait-no, Lemme guess' she studied me. 'She looks too young to be married so it can't be couples therapy. She has beautiful brown skin so scrap off skin care. She looks very healthy so rule out nutritional health. She doesn't seem insane so cross out madness. Then it can only be rehabilitation or depression' she was quick to conclude. This woman seemed to know exactly what she was doing. She had a list of possibilities she was inwardly but out-loudly crossing out in her head. She actually concluded right. Almost.
'You ask her?' Uncle Kay said with an undercurrent in his voice and she knotted her brows at me. I didn't open my mouth though. I didn't look up at them either.
'Judging from that unusual quietness.....and the hood, it should be, depression'
'Yep. Typical teenagers'
'Typical us' she corrected. 'You should understand. We were once teenagers. Best years of my life' she swiveled in her chair again. 'What happened?' she turned to me, seriously this time. Now, I didn't even know where to start. But I still did.
'My parents died seven years ago , in an accident' I started with an emotionless voice.
'And…..…that can't be all' she urged. Even she didn't understand why the deaths of my parents would make me depressed. She'd probably expect I would move on pretty quickly being a teenager. It wasn't that easy though.
'My dad was depressed, and suicidal. My first name turned out to be a fake. And my uncle chooses to believe I'm 'dysthymia-tic' I paused expecting Uncle Kay to react to my last statement. He didn't. 'I'm not. This is just a waste of time' I continued and he reacted this time.
'Shut up and try to think straight with all that stubborn sadness fogging your brain! You should accept it and try to fix it, not deny it and embrace it the more!' He yelled and I pressed my lips in anger under my hood.
'Kay! You shouldn't. She's young and doesn't understand most stuff' she scolded and he got up and left the room. Not before...
'You deal with her, or she's gonna drive me insane' he said and almost slammed the door shut. June looked at me worriedly but I just closed my eyes. My dark brown eyes always gave me away. They always reflected what I was feeling inside. After all, the eyes are the windows to the soul. And I wouldn't want anyone seeing through my soul...….if I still had one.
'I'm kidding. I just wanted him outta here. I know you're not too young to understand a lot. I understand your situation completely, and if you want, I won't tell your uncle anything you tell me in here' she offered and I opened my eyes. I guess therapists were pretty secretive. But how'd she know I'd even tell her anything. She had to be a professional to get anything out of me, and judging from the platinum cards on her desk, she was. But I was never really good at expressing myself or telling people how I felt, so we were both in for a ride – a long, frustrating one.
'…Unless you don't usually keep things from your uncle'
'No!' I exclaimed. Since he kept this much from me, I would from him.
'So we'll keep things between us?' she whispered leaning in and I nodded. She smiled before asking another question…
'How old are you?'
'15'
'So you were 8 when it happened?' she asked and I nodded.
'Why do you think you can't move on?' she asked further and I was tongue tied. How would I answer that?
'My parents died' I said in a throaty matter-of-fact voice. 'They meant everything to me' I whispered, more to myself than her.
'So you really have nothing left?'
I nodded.
'Even friends?'
'Never had friends'
'Not true. You said your parents died seven years ago, so you should've had friends before that'
'I was home schooled most of my life before my parents died'
'Mm' she nodded.
'How about now? Are you still home schooled?'
I shook my head.
'And you still don't have friends?'
I looked up at her, not willing to answer.
'Not even one?'
'No. I don't want or need friends' I muttered under my breath and she gave up the topic.
'How about your Uncle? Doesn't he mean anything to you?' she asked tilting her head. She seemed to be an inquisitor master. Her questions always caught me unaware. I wasn't sure how to answer any.
'He does'
'So, you didn't lose everything'
'I lost my parents! They're everything!'
'I guess they are. But, when you lose everything, you gain more. Ever tried?' she asked and I looked away.
'Okay. How about God. Shouldn't he be more than everything to you? Especially now that you've lost your parents'
I sighed in utter frustration. 'No he shouldn't. He's the one that took my parents in first place'
'He took to them to a far, far better place'
'Not really. You think a place without their very young daughter, left in this cruel damned world would be a better place for any parent. I don't think so. That's really selfish if you ask me. I mean, who takes an 8 year Old's parents, leaving her as an orphan for the rest of her life. That's traumatizing. Like he doesn't even care'
'That's quite the opposite. He really cares a lot about-'
'Save it. I thought so to before he ruthlessly killed both my parents. Besides, I came here for therapy, not religious assurance' I narrowed my gaze at her. She sighed and leaned back into her chair, actually swiveling it.
I suddenly realized why she was nicknamed Wittney; she was as funny as she was smart. She was a woman of beauty and wits. Killer combo.
'Can you take of your hood? I wanna see your hair' she asked which left me dumbstruck. What kind of question was that? Weren't therapists supposed to be focused? Or was this an unusual method of getting information out of people. I assumed she was just being casual and friendly so I could feel free with her so I just took my hood off.
'Wow, it's beautiful. Why platinum blonde?'
'I don't know'
'Is it natural?'
'Definitely not'
'What's your original hair color?'
'Brown'
'Then why'd you dye your hair?'
'I didn't like brown' I stated. She opened her mouth to ask another question but…. 'Please don't ask any more questions about my hair' I pleaded. I wasn't sure whether or not this information about my hair could be used to find out more about me. Either way, I'd rather not take the chance. I didn't know how therapy worked, or how therapists operate.
'Okay' she surrendered with her hands in the air. 'That's it for today' she stated and I was quite relieved but shocked. It wasn't even up to 10 minutes. 'I only need maximum 5 minutes to understand and help with your problem' she added acknowledging my shock. 'You can come back tomorrow, or any day before the end of this year. I only need prior five visits from you to make a difference. I'm just that good at my job' she bragged and I almost – almost chuckled.
'Hm. I'm a pretty tough nut to crack. Even God tried, but failed'
'One, he never does' she stated and I rolled my eyes. It was typical for her to defend her religion. 'And two, no matter how tough or hard you are to crack - even be bedrock if you want – I'll make a change in your life. For the better...…..or worse' she whispered maliciously and I almost choked on my own saliva. I mean, how could someone as nice and funny as her turn so creepily scary in a nanosecond. Could this be another unusual method of getting to someone? If yes, it was kinda working. 'See you again' she bid, switching back to that nice young lady. I flung my hood back on, sprang out of the chair and hurried out of the room, wanting to get as far away from her as possible right now. I entered the brightly lit hall and had sudden the urge to branch pass the other rooms, just to get a glimpse of what crazy stuff were going on in there. Unfortunately for me, Uncle Kay was standing right beside the door I had just walked out of and was leaning on the wall with his head high and his eyes closed. He seemed to be thinking of something really deep and important. Upon hearing the door open and close, he opened his eyes and pushed himself away from his leaning position. He stared at me for a while, also shocked I was done so soon, before grabbing my wrist and pulling me back into the room. I guess he thought I was being a stubborn teenager and I had stormed out of the room.
'Sorry, are you done?' he creased his brows.
'Mh-hmn'
'So quickly?'
'Yeah, I have what I need' she answered glancing at me. Sheesh. 'But from her, not you' she continued.
'And what do you need from me?'
'Your number' she half-joked and he chuckled.
'There' he indicated after they had exchanged numbers. 'How come I haven't seen you all this while when you were just 4 blocks away from my house?' he asked truly puzzled.
'Well, I haven't actually been around all this time. I studied in Cambridge and spent most of my years there in UK. I actually only came back for my practice year' she answered and it pieced yet puzzled a lot for me. I understood why I never saw her yet she was just a few blocks away from my house and why she had just till the end of the year to 'make a difference'. What I didn't understand was why she'd be 'so good at her job' yet she was just practicing. Something about her was just very questionable.
After a few more minutes of chit-chat we finally left the room and exited the building. Uncle Kay started another conversation in the car though…
'So, what did you tell Wittney?'
'Nothing much' I mumbled.
'What. Did you. Tell. Wittney?' he asked again, angrier this time. I figured he was still mad at what I said earlier so I spoke up in order not to further anger him.
'She asked about my friends, you and....God'
'Weird she'd ask about me'
'Yeah' I mumbled.
'Anything else?'
'She also asked about my hair'
'Why?'
'I don't know. She asked a lot of weird questions though. I'd rather not answer any'
'And why?'
'Just to stay on the safest side' I answered and I literally saw a wave of anger pump up his veins.
'You think keeping your problems to yourself is safe?' he asked visibly trying his best not to yell.
'Well…'
'Gloom, do you even realize your life is at! ....…Never mind'
'My life is at what?' I asked a little worried.
'I said never mind'
'But-' I clenched the back of the driver's seat but he hit the accelerator so abruptly the car sped then skidded, knocking me off balance. It seemed his anger would get us killed so I sealed my lips and leaned back into my seat. The rest of the drive was violently quiet and boring. Then remembering my book, I opened it and began reading until we got home.
Count your age by friends, not years. Count your life by smiles, not tears.
The quote echoed in my head.
If I was to really count my age by friends, not tears, I would probably be 0 years old. And if I was to really count my life by smiles, not tears, I probably wouldn't have a reason to live.
Just then a sinister idea crossed my mind. I shook it off then buried my head in the book as a distraction. That didn't stop it from echoing in my head though. Would I really resort to that?
~rage's POV~
I tried my best not to think about Ace and his offer the whole day. The words: Think about it, didn't help at all. I couldn't help stealing glances at him anytime I heard his charming laughter or his husky voice standing out from the clique. Even when I wasn't really looking at him, I would notice him smiling alluringly at me. Other times his whole clique would be eyeing me hungrily. But not the food type.
I guess I hadn't had enough of Skye Anderson cause during the second break she came over to my table and decided to piss me off again.
'Hi!' she faked a friendly wave.
'What do you want?' I asked strictly but she didn't take the hint.
'You didn't consider my tip'
Yes I did. I didn't mess with you. Heck! I didn't even come anywhere close to you.
'About?' I played dumb.
'Your hair duh' she said and helped herself to the seat opposite mine. I rolled my eyes at her and then all of a sudden her face changed and she clutched my hand under the table. My eyes widened at how aggressive her grip became.
'Ow' I exclaimed.
'Oh does it hurt?' she asked literally tightening her grip. 'Listen, I'm not gonna stand by and watch you seduce my boyfriend' she said through clenched teeth. She was obviously trying to muffle her threats.
'Y-your boyfriend?'
'Yes, Ace'
'I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm not trying to seduce anyone' I said yanking my hand away from her wrathful grip.
'Look, just stay away from Ace…or else' she threatened. I knew myself and one thing about me is that I absolutely hate being threatened and told what and what not to do. Besides, I didn't think Ace would stoop so low as to dating two girls at the same time. Maybe Skye just wanted me out of the way of her chances with him. Skye and Ace did look like the perfect high school couple; Prom king and queen.
I didn't know why but something inside me hated the thought of Skye and Ace being together. It all seemed so disgusting in my head and I didn't even know why. I wasn't used to this sickening feeling in my stomach...…...or was it in my heart.
Rage, I think you might be....jealous.
Vy suggested.
Me? Jealous? I had never really been jealous before. I didn't really have a reason to be anyway. I'm very beautiful and therefore get any guy I want – not that I've ever wanted one, and my parents were filthy rich so I always got any thing I want. What else was there to be jealous of?
'Or else what?' I shot back at her.
'Or else your two years here are going to be the worst years of your life'
'We'll see about that' I concluded and stood up to leave when she abruptly pushed the table, making me sit down again.
'I'm not kidding…Marine. You should know by now, why nobody in this school messes with me' she whispered with severe saturnine.
Besides that, how the hell did she know my original last name?
I had registered as Hunter in this school; Rage Nevada Hunter. So how'd she know my real parent's last name? Was this why nobody messes with her? Because she knows a lot of things about people, and she could use it against them.
Despite her influential authority, I felt a little confident. I mean, how much could she possibly gather about me in just one week.
'Well I'm not nobody, I'm different' I stated and pushed the table back. Getting up I said…. 'And if you can't call me Rage, don't bother me at all' I warned and her face turned calm, almost peaceful.
'Fine, Nevada' she pronounced the last part attempting to annoy me. And annoyed I was…