Orange Juice

Doorstep therapy

TW: Abuse

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come here." I pull away from her door, before spinning back around, "I know it's out of office hours and we don't have a session booked, but if you didn't want unwanted crazies showing up you should have kept your office seperate from your home." I scowl at Dr Horner, giving her a flippant grin.

The skin around my fingers begins to irritate me, begging to be picked at. I shift my gaze back to Dr Horner, her fiery hair atop her head in a knot. She wraps her arms around her frame covering her flannel pyjamas.

"I'm sorry, I get rude and deflect when I'm agitated. Which you probably already know." Her face doesn't change. "You gonna write this down in your little book?"

"Baby? Who is it?" A womans voice calls from behind Dr Horner, footsteps growing louder as a tall brunette steps out, a large glass of red wine in her hand. Right away she passes me a sympathetic look, "Oh," she smiles, giving the Dr a knowing nod, "I'll leave you to it." She back tracks into the house and heads up the large staircase.

"Marissa, what are you doing here?" Dr Horner steps out onto her stoop, pulling the door closed before sitting on the top step, gesturing for me to do the same.

Screwing my eyes shut I pinch the bridge of my nose, "I'm not even fucking sure." Tears start to spill over my lids and tumble down my cheeks.

"Do you want some water Marissa?"

"I want your girls glass of wine." I deadpan. "I was going to go to a meeting, but it didn't feel like a meeting sort of pain."

"Pain?" Horner asks gently.

My chest heaves a little, and I can't stop the tears falling down my face any more than I can stop the words from coming out of my mouth.

"I just carry all of it around all the time," The pain. "Guilt, anger, sadness." I look up from my sneakers and into Horners eyes, "But mostly anger. And I can't numb it with anything now, and I certainly can't act on any of it because I'm trying to be a good person now."

Dr Horner pulls a bright pink pen vape from her pocket, "i should quit these, but the flavours are so addictive." Tucking it back into her pyjamas, she fixes her gaze across the street, "Just because you drank and took drugs doesn't mean you were ever a bad person."

Bullshit, I was an awful person. Still am. Not sure if I'll ever repent.

"You mention anger, who are you angry at?"

How long has she got?

"Andy, myself, my dad." I know I should get over it but I can't for some reason I just can't.

Horner twitches her lips, "Not Levi?"

"Of course I'm angry at Levi but he's dead, he can't do anything about it. It would be stupid of me to hold a grudge against him for something that he'll never be able to fix." I snap, desperate to drag my knuckles along the rough concrete step. Anything to deflect this ache in my bones.

"Okay Marissa, what triggered you tonight."

"I hate that fucking word..." I scrub my face. "Dad. He... was nice."

"Why are you angry at Andy?" She asks.

"Because his life is so perfect, he has it all figured out and I just got... left. He didn't even wait for me. He keeps trying to be kind and respectful and I don't want him that way. I want him to know how it felt to be...forgotten." My eyes spit tears, saying all of this out loud hasn't made me feel any better not at all.

Dr Horner bobs her annoying fucking head again and it agitates me. Clawing my nails across my chin I get up to leave.

"Your father being nice caused you to want to relapse, made you feel...what?" She continues our impromptu therapy session.

"I don't know, angry." I say again.

"Because he was kind?"

"No because he is guilty and rather than apologise or acknowledge what he did, 10 years later he tries to buy me off."

"Do you want to talk about what he did?" Her tone softens, becoming a little more cautious

I shake my head vigorously, I've never told a soul. Not one person. But something about Dr Horners eyes makes me open up... and I add her to my shit list for it.

"I've never told anyone this, no one knows about this except my mom and dad..."

Dr Horner relaxes her back and leans her elbows on her knees, "Only if you're comfortable telling me Marissa,"

I steel my spine, drawing in a slow ragged breath. "The night Levi died, when I finally got home from Andy's place, the cops and the coroner had gone. It was just my mom, dad and me left. My dad was drunk, and so so distraught and I guess something about me pissed him off. My face maybe," I touch my cheek, the first place to take the blow of his fist. I still feel it 10 years later, "I was crying, of course, we all were. 'If you had been here you selfish little bitch,'" I recall his words, "I blinked away my tears, but before I knew it I was pinned against the wall by my throat," Instinctively I cover my neck, "I kicked myself free and ran to the stairs to go to my room, but he caught my legs and just laid into me. Punch after punch after god damn fucking punch. 'I wish it was you! It should have been you!'" My whole body shakes violently.

"Mom stopped him, eventually. I saw the regret in his eyes, written all over his face the minute he realised what he had done."

10 years before...

Blow after blow landing on my head, covering myself with my feeble hands, I beg, "Please stop!" I cower in the corner of the hallway, "please..." my voice trembles. Face throbbing, head pounding, heart breaking, I pray for it to stop.

A gentle knock on the front door silences us, except from my strained whimpers. Mom opens the door and Andy collapses into her arms.

"No," he sobs, "No no no no no."

My mother wraps her arms around him and cradles him like a child. Comforting Andy.

Dad straightens himself, disappearing into the kitchen. And before Andy can see me crumpled on the floor, I gather myself and go to my room, pushing the dresser against the door and climb out of the window.

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A/N:
Sorry for this. Its heavy and dark. And I'm sorry.