Trauma -BoyxBoy-

Thirty

I want to put a disclaimer here. For some reason, this counselling scene just gave me the worst writer's block ever. I literally couldn't figure out how to write it. So I decided I'm just going to skim past it because I want to write more. I hope it won't be too bad since his story has been told multiple times throughout the story, so I think it's not that bad of me to kind of speed through.

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I was nervous all day. We were about to leave to go to my therapy appointment. I hate recalling my experience, especially the certain specifics. I mean, I've done it quite a few times recently, but it feels like it never gets easier.

"So, what's your therapist like?" Seb asked. We were in his car, on our way to the building.

"Well, his n-name is Mr.Turner... he's a tall black man with glasses. He's real-ly nice, talks to me in s...s-sign, he's got one of those laughs that ki- that kinda cheers you up and makes you wa-wanna laugh too. He doesn't push me to t-talk if I don't want to. He's really good."

"That's nice."

I watched our dot on google maps follow the GPS line even though I already knew where it was headed. Soon we arrived in the parking lot.

I took a deep breath.

"Let's go," Sebastian said. He grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze when he noticed my hesitance. I smiled at him. He got out of the car and walked through the front entrance.

"Hello Talon, you can sign in, Mr.Turner is with someone right now, but he should be finishing up soon," the receptionist informed. I walked up to the desk, wrote my name down and filled out the time slot. I waited, twitching my leg. When I was finally called, we got up and walked down the hallway to the office where we greeted Mr. Turner. We sat down at his desk.

He asked me how I was doing, and I told him I was good. I bounced my foot anxiously.

"So you're the famous Sebastian?" He asked Seb, laughing slightly.

"I guess you could say that," He chuckles, looking at me.

After a little more small talk, we got into what we came here for. Mr. Turner asked me to tell him my story and to take my time if I needed to. I instinctively reached my hand out and grabbed Sebastian's. He gave me a reassuring squeeze and a face to match.

I took a shaky deep breath and hesitated before I spoke, starting from the beginning, hanging out with my friends...the van pulled up...How I kicked and screamed and how nobody heard.

It felt like as I spoke there was an eery silence in the room. I suddenly felt cold even through the threads of my sweatshirt. I was stuttering more too, it always happens when I think about any of this stuff. It floats pictures in my head of all of them, those dirty, disgusting people... the terrible shit they did. The thoughts cloud my mind and I can't speak right.

I did feel like the therapy had been helping me get better though, I kind of started to feel like a normal person again, I mean, I'm not totally there yet, but I am closer than I ever was before- especially with Sevastian by my side, oh boy how I do not deserve him.

Mr. Turner listened closely and asked questions and provided insight. I was crying, Sebastian cried too, but he comforted me still. The whole time wasn't just me telling the story, we related my feelings to the present time and included Sebastian in the conversation. I felt more open than I ever had before. Like my pores were clogged with negativity and it was slowly being peeled out with a blackhead mask. I wasn't fully healed or whatever, but it was helpful.

Afterwards, we walked together and I was feeling pretty nice.

"You did great, Cucciolo," Sebastian smiled. I grinned back.  He had started calling me 'Cucciolo' sometimes as a cute pet name. It was an Italian word for 'cub.' He said that he had found out that there was Italian from Carter's side of the family. He thought it would be cool if we had cool names for each other in a foreign language. So I called him 'Lupo' as in wolf. He was the big strong wolf, and I was the small wolf cub companion. I thought it was cute.