My Sister's Keeper

Seven.

"So Damien. What brings you in here today?"

Damien scoffed at the question, his eyes glaring holes into the carpeted flooring as he sat on the beige-colored couch in the equally beige-colored room. Across from him sat the therapist he had been forced to meet with by his parents. Or more so, his mother as his father still held doubts about allowing their son to partake in therapy.

"Man, don't even try to act like you care," Damien said. "You're only here to pretend like you're listening and get paid. I don't even know why I'm here, I don't need this shit."

The therapist, Dr. Klein, nodded as he wrote on his notepad. "I see," he said. "I understand why you would think that way about me, Damien. And I also understand why you're hesitant to open up about what's been going on. But I assure you that I do care about my clients and want nothing more than to help them with their problems."

Damien scoffed again. "You can't help me with my fucking problems, man."

Dr. Klein winced at the foul language but remained silent.

"You think you can? You think you got magic in that pen?" Damien then questioned. "You want to help me with my problem? Bring me my fucking sister back and then we'll talk."

Dr. Klein paused, tilting his head slightly as he examined the boy across from him before he looked away to write on his notepad.

"Your sister," he said. "If you don't mind me asking, where is she, Damien?"

Damien laughed a dry chuckle that soon turned into humorless laughter as tears formed in his eyes. Seeing this, Dr. Klein reached over with a box of tissues in hand.

"You want to know where she is?" Damien asked after a while. "She's in the fucking ground, man. Six feet under."

Dr. Klein nodded. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said. "I take it you two were very close?"

"She was my twin."

Dr. Klein nodded again. "And how long has it been since she passed?"

The tears returned as Damien stared back down at the floor. "Today makes three months," he said and sniffed. "Three months without my sister. Without my fucking twin. This is so messed up, man."

"I understand," Dr. Klein said. "And once again, I'm very sorry for your loss. The wound is still extremely fresh, and rightfully so. But Damien, I want you to know that I am listening to every word you say and I hear you. I'm here for you. So anything you have to let out, you do just that, okay? This is a safe place. I'm not here to judge you, only to understand you."

Damien stayed silent as his gaze remained on the floor and away from the man sitting across from him. His feelings for therapy had changed significantly overnight the more he thought of what could happen.

If he was diagnosed with something, anything, he would be forced into taking prescriptions in the name of helping him. Prescriptions that would surely make him feel as if he were feeling better when in reality, nothing would ever make him feel the same again. He could give his parents and the therapist the false satisfaction that what they were doing was a good thing for him. That what they were doing would help him heal. But the truth was they simply couldn't. Nothing could.

Nothing except the one thing he had been forced to live without.

"How do people just expect me to move on from this?" he finally asked. "How do they expect me to want to do anything without her here? She was my best friend. The one person I knew I would have with me forever and she's not...she's not here."

"Well, I don't think anyone will expect you to move on," Dr. Klein said. "But more so learn to live with it. This is a very big loss for not just you, but for everyone who knew her. So including you, your parents, extended family members, and any friends she had. Anyone and everyone who knew her is affected by this loss. So you will never be alone in feeling that pain."