The Normals

Counseling

"So Vera, how was the first day of school." Doctor Phillip Enrichvon asked me after I refused to answer his last fifteen questions.

I snorted, keeping my arms crossed and my body slumped in an uncaring fashion. "Hell was fine. Thanks for asking." I bluntly commented.

My personal therapist sighed, scribbling some information onto the paper held by his clipboard. "Well that answer is better than nothing." He mumbled.

Doctor Phillip Enrichvon was a fairly plump old man in his mid-fifties. His hair was mainly grey but in between some of his locks, he had sandy blonde strands, a former reminder of his youth. His pale blue eyes were tired and aged from experience and work, the long wrinkles on his face were proof of that also. However, he was a decent man who reminded me of my deceased grandfather. In fact, I would have enjoyed his company, had we not been in this situation.

Oh yes, the dreaded therapy sessions.

I used to think the people that went to therapy were either insane or just fucking dumb, but those assumptions changed. Now, I know pretty much anyone who seems different from the rest of society could end up here.

So why was I here?

Truth be told even I didn't really know.

But my indifferent mother seems to think I have a severe case of depression and I am fighting a loosing battling with stress. She seems to think I need to converse with a stranger for an hour, instead of her actually speaking to me. Heaven forbid the woman have a solid conversation with me because if she did, she would just realize that I just dislike annoying people.

Honestly, I feel like she is the one who needs the fucking therapy.

"How have you been doing since we last met?"

A sigh pushed itself past my lips. "Doctor Phill, can I just go home now?" I mumbled with a small hiss.

"Vera, I told you to call me Doctor Enrichvon. Not Doctor Phill. I know calling me Doctor Phill is amusing and it helps you to get through our sessions, but I would prefer you call me by my actual name." He placed his wooden clipboard onto the small table next to him, it dropped on the glass table-top with a soft clank. Then, he took off his large, thick glasses and placed them next to the clipboard before turning to me with his hands folded. "Vera," He stared, readjusting himself to scoot closer to me. "You know, the sooner you open up to me, the quicker these sessions will cease completely. That's what you want, isn't it?" Phill's eyes were sympathetic and caring, open to any new information I could give him.

My face twisted into confusion. "Well yeah, but honestly there is nothing I need to tell you that you don't already know."

"Okay, then why don't you tell me about the time you cut yourself."

I groaned in annoyance, falling back into my chair. "For the last time, it was only once during my freshman year. It doesn't even matter anymore." My digits touched my forehead lightly.

Mr. Enrichvon reached across the small space between us and grasped my right hand. He held it softly, reassuringly. Like my grandfather always did. "Honey, I know something is troubling you. Even if it's small, tell me. That's why I am here." The old man said softly.

I paused whilst looking to my hands, picking at my black nail polish. It was a bad habit I had always had, and it was an obvious sign that I did not want to speak.

"Ve-"

"I have nothing to say to you. Even if I did, I would not tell some random stranger who is claiming to help me when there was nothing wrong to begin with." I said harshly.

Phill released my hand, his face precarious.

"Can I go now?" I grumbled, looking the old man in the eyes.

Phill scanned my face, signing to himself. "Have a nice night."

- - -

Wow, I'm not dead! *fist-pumps the air dramatically*

Lol anyway, sorry it took a while to publish. I've been a bit brain-dead and lazy...

Hope you enjoyed the chapter you sexy bitches,

- S