🫧Bubbles🫧 | DNF

🫧 Prologue 🫧

"The present changes the past. Looking back you do not find what you left behind."
— Kiran Desai

"It's... a protective layer. Walls that I put around myself... It was supposed to be an unbreakable bubble. Impenetrable. It was supposed to be indestructible."

"Yes, you've told me this before. I'm aware it's indestructible."

"So how- So how come it's starting to crack? How come it's all starting to crumble down?!"

🫧 Three weeks ago:

"And your bubble. How's it coming along?" Dr. Kristy shifted in her seat and eagerly leaned forward in search of an answer.

"Um... nothing new with it, thankfully. It's been helping me feel calmer laterly." George kept his gaze on the ground instead of at his therapist. He hated eye contact.

"Calmer how?"

"Like... in regards to anxiousness. Especially when people get close to me. It's been getting kinda worse than usual. I'm... almost frightened of people making conversation with me."

"Mhm." Kristy glanced down at my hands. "Where's your stress ball? Are you keeping it at home?"

"Yeah... I don't wanna lose it again."

"Keep it in your pocket, it might calm you. Let me get another one for you." She stood up and walked to her drawer of stress balls.

George took the time to look over the poorly-made crayon drawings made for Kristy that she had hung up on the wall. He liked looking at them, it gave him a sense of familiarity. George especially liked the drawing of the cat. It had a purple head, as well as the mittens of its paws and tail. The rest of the cat's body was orange, which went well with its bright yellow eyes and way-too-long whiskers.

"Here. I found you a blue one." Kristy snapped George away from the picture by throwing him the blue ball. George luckily caught it and gave it a squeeze. He liked Dr. Kristy's stress balls. They were squishy and interesting to play with, which calmed him tremendously.

"So, you mentioned you keep people at a distance in fear of them getting attached to you; do you feel this applies to your parents as well?"

"I um... uh..." George glanced back at the orange-purple cat again and squeezed the stress ball quickly a few times. "I never thought about it. I just talk to them, but very scarcely. I dunno... you can ask my mom, I think she'd explain it better than I can."

"I could, but I asked what you feel, not what your parents think is going on."

George sulked to himself. He didn't know the answer. Or rather, he did, but he didn't know how to phrase it.

"I dunno." He repeated uselessly.

"That's okay."

Kristy looked down at George's stress ball. They sat in a filling silence for a bit. George felt he could take a breather from questions. Not that they were hard to answer or anything — it just felt like getting a five minute break after a small jog.

"So if not for your bubble, what do you feel stopping you from communicating? What would happen if you let other people in your life? You don't have to answer, just think about it."

George bit his lip in thought. His mind was running at lightning speed, reviewing all the failed friendships in his life. He knew if he moved or grew too old, other people he talked to wouldn't keep in touch and forget about him. It's happened before, and it's painful to get over the fact they'll forget about you. The seemingly endless backstabbing, the friends-turned-strangers, the betrayal. Every single friendship... gone wrong. Ended. It's better to not talk to people. They'll always find a way to use you, manipulate you without your knowledge, even going as far as bullying and death wishes. If all friendships are like that, what's the point? One or two months of being led on into thinking you've done it, you've finally made a friend, just for them to turn on you. The person you put your trust and secrets into.

He wanted to say all this. Tell it to his therapist. He felt he owed it to her. Not because his parents paid for her, but because admittedly, he trusted Kristy. He knew she wouldn't ever reveal the confidential information to anyone else; she was understanding of him and his situation.

"It... it hurts. I know how it will end the second I start engaging with a person. It will all break apart. I'll be betrayed again and be more disappointed in society than I was before. But my bubble protects me. It keeps me back from forming those friendships, and no one can get to me. I'm safe in my bubble." George looked slightly to the left of her, not daring to make eye contact. "Does that make sense?"

Kristy gave me a bright smile. "Yes. That makes sense. But what would you feel would happen if that bubble was gone and you wouldn't be protected by it anymore?"

"...It would feel horrible. I'd be so scared... I don't even want to think about it."

"Alright. That's completely understandable." Kristy nodded and looked down at my stress ball. "George, how would you feel if you were acquainted with a group of people that also were scared of communicating, and you could grow and bond with each other."

"What? Kristy, no. Th... That's literally the opposite of the function of my bubble! I need to keep people out, not make friends because of it!" George blinked in confusion.

"You didn't have to agree right away, I was just asking how you would feel if you were placed in this situation." Kristy's voice continued being at a calm, level tone, despite George raising his voice.

"I know I wouldn't like it, and I wouldn't communicate at all." George pouted and looked down at the stress ball he was currently squeezing.

Kristy glanced up at the clock on her wall.
"I think our time is up for today. I'll see you next week, then?"

"Yes." George nodded.

They both stood up, and Kristy walked George to the door to see him off.

"And George..." Kristy approached George to open the door for him. "Think about our session today. I feel we've uncovered quite a bit."

"Alright, I will. Thank you, Kristy." George nodded. Kristy gave him a small pat on the back, and George walked out of her office.

"How was your session Dr. Kristy?" George's mother looked over at her son as he sat in the back seat of the car.

"It was fine." George grumbled dully. "I'm gonna listen to music."

His mother knew what this meant. George didn't want to talk right now. Too much communication overwhelmed him. She let him play his music.

George just plugged his headphones in and made no reach to even connect them to his phone. He just placed his cheek on the window and watched the streets flash by him. It was nice: not talking to people. And he wouldn't trade it for the world.

-
Thank you for reading the prologue of Bubbles! This idea was given to me by my author friend just_callme_m, I only took the idea of the prompt from them, the plot and story were my idea! Check out M's stories, they're really cool.
This is my first fanfic based on the dsmp, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

1238 words