trapped :: hs [au]

I

(present)

I was in the waiting room, waiting untill my new entrance to hell began. My father convinced me to come here, after all that happened last year. Honestly, I don't blame him; last year terrible things happened, horrifying and somber. Any other girl would have died of abhor, I, of course, was that stupid girl from high school who didn't had any friends nor a social life [...] just me and my fucked up mind. It wasn't untill last year that life really turned into a living hell, and I, myself, became hell as well.

"Heather, come here darling"
my father called from the other side of the room.

I stand up and walked towards him, my boot steps echoed throughout the room and the man next to my father looked at me awkwardly bothered. Just like if he didn't expect that a man with button up shirts and dressing shoes had a daughter with heavy eyeliner and dark lipstick.

"Heather, this is Dr. Casttle, he is going to be with you for the next few Saturdays. "
my father said,
"Dr. Casttle, this is my daughter Heather"
he added.

"Nice to meet you Heather. I want you to know that my intentions are to help you get over everything you passed through last year."
Dr. Casttle said, the most stupid and hurtful welcoming greeting a person who you just met can give you; my father must have told him already ...

"I already got over it"
I said in a neutral and normal tone of voice, trying to hide my anger.

"We discussed this Heather"
my father said, looking at me with a don't-fuck-this-up face.

I stayed quiet, causing an awkward first impression to my third psychologist.

"When are we starting?"
my father asked.

"When is she starting?"
Dr. Casttle corrected making enphasis on "she"; thanks God.
"This Saturday if you don't have a problem with it"
he answered with an idiot look in his face.

"Its perfect, are we done for today?"
my father asked looking at his watch, just like a professional man would do as if saying "it's time to get the hell out of here". Truthfully, I do agree with my father and I want to get out of here right now.

"Yes, we're done, see you on Saturday ... Heather."
Dr. Casttle answered

"Thanks for everything Dr. Casttle we really apreciate it"
my father said

I groaned and let down my crossed arms while rolling my dark brown eyes and leaving the room. I found myself walking straight to the restroom, not for any particular reason, but to check on myself in the mirror; reaplying my lipstick and eyeliner and pulling my hair up in a bun. Suddenly, I found myself pulling up my shirt to look at the scar he made me; the scar Harry made me. I suffered too much beside him, he made my life miserable. The thought of him makes me want to punish myself for being such a stupid girl back in those days. With a little feeling of crying I leave the restroom. The feeling of crying turned into warm tears streaming down my cheeks, causing a salty taste in my lips. Almost weak, I remembered that I can't cry anymore over it, I got over it.

I started walking out of the building. Once out, I was looking for my father's car. For a moment i thought he left me here. Suddenly I hear a horn in front of the parking's exit ... Thanks God. I got in the car and before my dad started talking about stupid topics, I put my headphones on and shuffle on my music. Every little lyric reminded me of him, but I promissed myself that I'd get over him;

I got over it ... I did.

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