The Cat Orphanage

CHAPTER 24

"So, Nyla. Should we talk about what you like to do?" the woman, who sits in front of me, asks calmly. 

I'm in room I've never been in before. It looks very vintage. The walls are dark red made out of bricks. There are plants everywhere, a brown desk, two white chairs and a grey couch. There is a picture of a white cat with blue eyes and grey paws and black-pink nose. It reminds me of Hazel. A lot.

I stare at the woman in front of me. I memorise every feature of her face and body. Her strawberry blonde hair, lobelia blue eyes, Roman nose, freckles, oval face and her long eyelashes. She looks at me as I look at her, creating an awkward silence. 

"Nyla?"

"What?"

"Are you going to answer me?"

"No. I don't have an answer to your question."

"Alright." She writes something down on her notebook. "So, shall we start with the earliest things? How is your relationship with your family?"

"My parents are dead."

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"You are not."

"I really am."

"No, you aren't. They died when I was 3. I don't even remember them."

"Does that still affect you?"

"You are the therapist. You should know."

"Yes, but I can't know if you don't tell me."

"Right. Psychology."

"Who do you love the most?"

"My boyfriend. And my cat."

"You have a cat?"

"I did."

"Do you want to talk about it? What did she look like?"

I don't answer. I don't want to talk about Hazel. It hurts me. I feel tears in my eyes and I quickly wipe them off. I press my lips as my hand starts to tremble.

I bite my lips before taking a deep breath. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Are you sure? You should try. You didn't tell me anything about yourself."

"Yes, yes I'm fine."

"No, honey, you aren't."

"I am."

"You aren't. Please, Nyla. I'm trying to help you."

"I know."

"Have you ever talked to someone about your feelings before?"

I shrug. I look at my hands as I rub my fingertips.

"You haven't. I see. Why don't you try? Tell me about Aaron. Do you love him?"

"Yes, A lot."

The woman writes it down on her notebook again. 

"What else? What does he look like?"

"He is downstairs. You can go and see him."

"No, sweetheart. I want you to try it."

"Oh."

"So?"

"I'm good at description. So, he is 20. He is tall. His eyes and curly hair are brown. His nose is straight and his teeth are straight. He loves taking care of himself and others. He goes to the gym. Oh, and he has dimples! My favourite part."

"You love his dimples?"

"Yes, I do."

"I'm glad you spoke to me about him. So you are good at description."