Lilium

Two

Two

The therapist crossed her legs, cleared her throat, and set the pad of legal paper over one thigh. With a tone as clipped and refined as the nails on her hands, she looked to Lilith and asked her what her problem was.

It was the fourth time she'd asked this question, fifth if Lilith counted when she'd signed the papers and it asked the purpose of her visit. Like the last four times (the fifth being the only time Lilith had actually answered), she gave Miss Longsly a blank stare and counted the seconds that passed.

Seems we're locked in a stalemate.

The therapist set the pad down on the table between them and grabbed her cup of coffee instead. The silence stretched between them until it was snapped by the sound of her slurps.

"Lilith, I can't help you if you don't speak to me."

As if I ever wanted you to, Lilith thought. Instead, she opened her mouth, thought for a moment, and promptly closed it again with the click of her teeth.

I'm here because my brother killed himself. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from vocalizing this. I'm here because for eighteen years of my life, I was convinced I knew what I was doing with my pathetic existence. I thought I had it all in order, and now I'm stuck in a shit life with a shit education and no real direction to go in.

She didn't say a word of this, choosing instead to keep her gaze unfocused and pretended to meet the therapist's green eyes.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. Really, though, I'm not. Except for wasting her time, maybe. But she doesn't need to know that.

Ms. Longsly arched one blonde eyebrow, though whether in surprise or disbelief, Lilith couldn't discern.

"Well..." She tapped her pen against the paper pad and bit her lip.

Just like Oliver used to. Lilith shook the thought off. I can't think about him. Not now.

"This gives me a jump-off point, believe it or not. It's not a big one, no... But once you start talking, it'll at least mean you're more open to the situation... and that means you're comfortable."

Lilith nodded, almost mechanically, and mumbled out what she hoped sounded like an agreement. She gazed around the room.

Three walls were painted one of three different shades of cream. The fourth was pale green. All four of them were bare, which Lilith supposed was so that none of the bored patients can pick up a wayward statue and smash the therapist's head in. Probably a good move on Ms. Longsly's part.

Not that it mattered, though. Lilith knew she was strong enough to lift the couch she sat on and throw it out the window. Not that she wanted to. Not right then, anyway.

"Anyway, Lilith, our time is up for today." Ms. Longsly cast an anxious glance to the door for only a heartbeat before looking back to Lilith. "Same time next week, same day." She took a moment to scribble this onto a card for her, a moment which Lilith spent pondering the different ways she could avoid seeing the therapist ever again, then passes the card to her. It was pale pink in color, the information on it done in spidery handwriting.

The ink smudged under Lilith's thumb as she shoved it into a jacket pocket. "Thank you," she said, getting to her feet. "I'll see you next week."

Or perhaps I won't.

She headed for the door but stopped when the thought crossed her mind. At the door, she stopped. The doorknob was cold in her hands.

"You know, you have really shitty pens."