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Chapter 4

Calum's POV

What the h.ell is she doing here? She doesn't really look like the type to have therapist worthy problems. But you know, don't judge a book by it's cover and all of that s.hit. 

"Calum?" the woman who I suppose is the therapist asks. I get up and glance toward Alaska again, only to discover that she's already gone. I follow the therapist in to her office and sit down. Her office is big, really big. There is a black leather sofa and a black and white chair. She also has a black wooden table in the middle, and a desk placed against the wall. 

She has a huge, fake smile plastered on her face that screams, "I'm only doing this for the money". She's holding a notepad and a pen in her hands, all ready to take some useless notes or maybe just doodle while she asks stupid questions.

"My name is Claudia and I will be your therapist for the following months. To tell you shortly about me, I was born and raised in Florida, but I moved to Norway with my husband six years ago. I have two beautiful daughters and a son around your age, but enough about me. Tell me a little bit about you," she smiles with her oh so caring smile. I look at her with the most uninterested look anyone has ever given. I don't give a s.hit about your life story lady, and I'm not interested in sharing mine with you either.

"There isn't anything to say," I answer flatly, not really wanting to talk to her.

"Oh come on, of course there is!" she encourages. 

"For example, do you have any hobbies?" she asks, desperately trying to make me talk.

"I listen to music, sleep, and smoke. That's it, really," I shrug. I guess I can answer some of her stupid questions. 

"So you smoke? Tell me Calum, do you get anxiety or panic attacks?" she asks curiously. I nod curtly, even though I'm not sure if should tell her or not. She doesn't care anyways, and I don't like sharing too much with others...

"Then I would really recommend you to stop smoking, it increases the probability of getting panic attacks," she tells me. It does? Oh. Do I care? A little bit, actually, but let's just pretend that the answer is no because I'm not going to stop smoking.

"Okay, let's go over some methods of keeping anxiety attacks somewhat under control when they occur," she smiles, and then she starts rambling on about some "easy steps to help me calm down during an anxiety attack".

I actually pay attention to her, though, because I know I'll regret not paying attention the next time I get an anxiety attack. It's better to at least pay attention now and have the information than not paying attention and regretting it bitterly later. Therefore, I sit there and put all my focus on the blonde haired, blue-eyed, rather tiny lady as if she's telling me the biggest secret in the world. The only reason I pay so much attention is so that I don't have to think about anything else. I don't want my mind to drift off, because if it does, I have no idea where it will go, and I'd rather not find out.

~~~

When the session finally ends, I head straight out of the building. I look around for my aunt's car since she promised to pick me up. If she doesn't show up I'm kinda f.ucked, considering I don't even know where I am. How the h.ell will I get home then? Walk around the entire town until I find her house? I don't think so. I could call a taxi, but I don't know her address. I'll give her a couple of minutes, and if she doesn't show up I'll call her. What if she doesn't answer? I'm overthinking this way too much.

I fish a cigarette up from my pocket and search for my lighter. Did I lose it? I pat all of my pockets to find the lighter, but it's nowhere to be found. Oh, come on... I see a girl walking towards me with a cigarette between her fingers. Bingo. 

"Hey, can I borrow a lighter?" I ask her as she's about to walk past me. She stops and looks at me before she smiles warmly. I was honestly not expecting her to stop. It must be my lucky day. 

"Sure," she smiles with a Norwegian (I would guess) accent and hands me a lighter. I quietly thank her and light my cigarette before I give it back to her.

"Cool accent, by the way," she smiles before she walks away. Why do people like the Australian accent? I don't get it, but that might be because I'm so used to it. Yeah, that must be it. I'm just used to it.

I place the cigarette between my lips and take a deep drag of it. Where is my aunt? I exhale the smoke and watch it float up in the cold winter air as it slowly fades away. I enjoy watching the smoke while it's just doing its own thing. I like just sitting back and looking at it while I'm smoking. 

After a couple of minutes I'm so cold I can barely even hold the smoke anymore. It's hard being a smoker in Norway, damn. How do these people even survive in this country? It's so cold here I'm sure I'll freeze to death one of these days. As I start wondering where my aunt is for probably the tenth time during the few minutes I have been waiting for her, a car pulls up in front of me.

"Get in," I hear.

"And throw away that cigarette, I don't want it in my new car."

I'm sorry this chapter is short a boring but I found out that it had been deleted after I wrote it the first time, and I couldn't remember exactly what had happened in the chapter, so I just had to do something...

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