Wicked Souls

19

I nodded.

"How often do you feel scared or empty?" He asks me as he looks over at me and meets my eyes once again. He's noticed that I seem to often have those two emotions when I'm alone. He's curious how often I experience those types of feelings and he wonders if there is a specific frequency that triggers them.

"All the time," I said.

"Every time you're alone, you feel scared and empty?" He asks me once again, he wants to make sure he's heard me correctly. His hand starts to rub my back more gently, he realizes that something about being alone triggers me and he wants me to get to the root of why that happens.

I nodded.

"Do you have any suspicions on why you feel so scared or empty when you're alone?" He asks me again, but his voice remains soft and gentle. He's beginning to dig a bit deeper into the root cause of my issues and he wants to find out where the problems lie.

I just shrugged.

He notices my slight shrug and he realizes that there are things I'm hesitant to share when it comes to my emotions and my feelings. He realizes that the root cause of my issues is buried deep and he will not force me to speak about it. Instead of asking another question, he moves his hands off my back and leans back in his chair as he speaks in a softer tone.

"You can talk to me about anything... whenever you're comfortable with it. I'm here if you want to share,".

I didn't know how to talk about it, so I nodded however I put my head down and focused on my drawing.

He notices that I don't want to speak about it, so he doesn't push any further to figure out more about me. As a therapist, he has the awareness to know when someone isn't comfortable with sharing something so personal or deep. Instead, he just sits quietly in his chair as he watches me continue to draw. After a few moments, he finally decides to break the silence.

"May I ask one more question?"

I nodded.

"Can I have a look at your drawing real quick?" He asked softly as he finally broke the silence a moment ago. He had been watching me draw for a while now and he was quite curious to see my progress. He slowly stands up from his chair and casually walks over towards me, he leans over my shoulder and carefully looks down at the sketchbook I've been drawing on. His face looks eager and curious as he takes a look at the drawing I'm working on.

I nodded as I handed him the sketchbook.

He takes the sketchbook from me and he begins to carefully flip through the pages, he is observing my progress and he's looking at the drawing I was working on. After a few seconds, his hand rests on my shoulder gently as he asks me about it.

"Could you tell me what you were drawing?" He asks as he continues to look down at the page with curiosity in his eyes. His soft and gentle voice carries a kind tone as he patiently waits for my response.

"An angel in the sky, the gateway to heaven," I said gently.

"An angel in the sky, huh," The title piques his curiosity even more as he begins to take a closer look at the drawing of the angel. His eyes roam across the drawing as he studies the details, he notices that there are some slight raindrops in the background as well. The drawing seems to express a lot of emotions and feelings of anxiety, he can see that I put a lot of effort and thought into the drawing.

"The angel finally got the peace it needed," I said.

"Huh, so the angel in your sketchbook finally gets some peace," He responds in a slightly puzzled tone as he looks back down at the drawing. He looks more closely at the angel as he tries to figure out what I mean exactly by my words. His gaze returns to me as he turns to look at me and asks.

"Can I ask a question?"

I nodded.

"Who's the angel?" He says softly as he continues to stare at my sketchbook, his tone of voice shows genuine curiosity and interest as he asks me about the character I've drawn.

"My Dad,".

"Oh... Your Dad..." He says slowly as his tone of voice becomes softer, more gentle and more sympathetic. He realizes that the angel that I drew was my father, this changes the entire meaning of the title as well as the meaning of the drawing itself...His hand shifts to my shoulder once again and his fingers squeeze my shoulder gently as he waits for me to speak. His gentle and curious tone of voice remains as he speaks again.

"Do you miss him?"

I nodded "When I had my situation a few days ago, I had memories and I knew him for 5 years of my life and I only just remembered him,".

"You only just remembered him?" He says slowly as he raises an eyebrow, his voice remains soft and caring, but his tone has shifted towards being more curious now as he speaks. He wants to know more about the situation that I had a few days ago, where I only just remembered my father. He gently squeezes my shoulder once again and he waits for me to elaborate further on the situation.

I nodded "I guess I always remembered the stuff that my Mom put me through... That I forgot who my Dad was,".

A wave of realization crosses his face and his eyes widen slightly as I speak, he's starting to piece together the puzzle of my childhood. It seems that the things my mother put me through when I was growing up were so traumatic that I ended up repressing some of the memories. I always remembered my mother's cruelty towards me, but I never remembered to think about my father which was probably because I was repressing the memories of him as well. The realization dawns on him and he speaks again.

"I see..."