We Love You, Clawd

Interview One: Heather Wolf and Stephen Wong

A man and a woman enter the counselling room, both with copious tears on their eyes and still sobbing a little, the woman more so. The woman is Mrs Heather Wolf, Clawd's mother and the more melancholic of the two. I have taken into account that this is an extremely hard situation for her, as Clawd was an absolute brick to her from the moment he could walk. The man is Howleen's father and Clawd's stepfather, a human by the name of Dr Stephen Wong. He's crying a little less, but there's no hiding implications of sorrow and failure in anybody. That reminds me, I haven't introduced myself yet! My name is Neighthan Rot, aspiring psychologist and the monster who will conduct all of these interviews you are reading right now. God, that sounded formal. But then again, these types of things aren't exactly places for humour.

Alright, I should probably shut up and let the interviews talk for me, but I'm taking this chance to warn you of one last thing.

If you are looking for a happy story with little sorrow and maybe a few laughs along the way, I'd stop reading if I were you. Things are about to get pretty grim.

Neighthan Rot: Good morning.

Heather and Stephen wave back, but are too engulfed in sobs to form words just yet. Stephen finally manages a short "Hi" after a minute of trying to compose himself. It does not take them long for them to take a seat, and they soon manage to pull themselves together after discarding their tissues.

Neighthan: How are you guys today?

Heather: How do you think?

Stephen: What my wife is trying to say is that, we could definitely be better.

Neighthan: I won't ask the reasons, they seem to be very obvious.

Stephen: Yeah.

Neighthan: Which one of you wants to go first? Get everything off your chest?

Stephen: Heather, you've been affected more. You go first.

Heather: Why should I trust him?

Neighthan: Mrs Wolf, all information passed between us in this room is entirely confidential and I have no desire, nor ability, to pass anything discussed on. I have nothing to gain by gossiping about how someone's parents feel after they commit suicide. I'm only doing this to try and gain a bigger picture about Clawd's mental health for my school research project.

Heather: You could be lying.

Neighthan: Once again, I have no incentive to do that. Why would I lie to one of my clients?

Heather: I can't trust anybody, not you, not myself. I can't do that after what happened to my child. After he...he...

Neighthan: It's okay, Mrs Wolf.

Heather: It's not! How can you say such a thing? See, this is exactly what I'm scared of. This confirms everything. You want me to tell you everything I feel and know about my son going and killing himself, so you can use it for your own gains, whatever they may be! And...and...

She breaks down completely, and I give her more tissues to try and stem the gushing tears. Her breathing gets more shallow and more rapid, and I decide that if I can help with her anxiety attack that she's descended into, that will be the first step towards trust.

Neighthan: Mrs Wolf, listen to me. I'm going to try and help you calm down.

She looks up at me with bloodshot eyes piercing beyond her hair, her hands repeatedly balling into fists.

Neighthan: We're going to try breathing. Count slowly to four, and while you do that breathe in through your nose.

She does this, sucking in the air through her nose.