It was 3 o'clock p.m and about 35 degrees and snowing in Gothenburg, Sweden. Hakan decided to walk from school to his therapy session as opposed to taking the bus to his aunts and letting her drive him. There was nothing he hated more than being in his aunt's home and pretending it was his. Or sitting across the table from her for supper and seeing her face; a face that looked just like his mother's.
I mean she was her twin after all.
Being there with her was just a reminder that the world had imposters and that life was cruel– so cruel that he would be stuck with his mother's twin after his mother was murdered.
He finally arrived at the tall brick building covered by white and used his glove-covered hands to open the door as his therapist had buzzed him in right on time. He made damn sure to walk up the stairs at turtle speed. His therapist was probably the third person in his life that he wasn't very fond of if he had a list, but happened to be present so he tolerated.
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As he went to knock, she opened the door like clockwork, greeting him with the brightest most fictitious smile. She stepped aside to allow him space to enter what was supposed to be his "safe-space". There was no such thing as a "safe space" Hakan thought...No such thing as a home either. He didn't even have a home when he had a home.
After hanging up his jacket and stuffing his gloves and hat in his backpack, he sunk into the warm leather chair and rubbed his cold hands onto his jeans. He watched the tall, voluptuous woman pour him a glass of pucko and removed a hotdog out of the microwave. Quickly walking up to him with the same smile on her face, she handed the food and drink to him.
"Thank you," he mumbled.
She attentively watched Hakan alternate between biting his hotdog & sipping his Pucko, as he paid her no attention whatsoever. She thought about what a quiet, yet tortured soul he was. Thirteen years old suffering from PTSD, borderline personality disorder and bipolar depression. The boy also had severe anxiety.That however was the least of her worries. Although Eva had many different patients she saw on a daily basis, Hakan happened to be the one she was most worried about.
She often thought to herself, how one could suffer so many different diagnoses and appear so undisturbed? So underwhelmed. It was the silence. How articulate and self-aware he was. How respectful and kind he appeared, but how much he lacked humor at his young age-
"Ms. Nilsson?" He asked, pulling her out of her mind.
"Oh, Hakan, I apologize. It appears my lack of sleep has gotten the better of me," She nervously chuckled.
