OMNISCIENT
Both girls sat on either side of the room. Sitting through the weekly health session.
Onika didn't seem to know the point of it. Of course she had her mental health issues and was overly sensitive, with a lot of other things with that— she just didn't see the point in sitting in a room full of mental health patients.
It was stupid. Listening to people complain about their life. They clearly had tons of therapist on site.
Sitting here waiting for it to be over made her agitated or sad. She was in this place because of her anger issues and depression.
Her parents wanted her to be fixed. Both parents are well known in the business industry. It would be embarrassing for the family— of course Onika could care less, she didn't give two fucks.
"Anyone else has anything to say?" Mrs. Hendrick's, the head of the counseling department.
"No, can we hurry up and end this shit?"
"Onika."
"What? I'm just saying."
"You're therapy sessions are doubling for this upcoming week."
"Ridiculous. I didn't even say shit. I was asking a question."
"I'm thinking about doubling anger management too?
"I don't have anger issues. I'm tired off hearing that."
"Whatever you say, Ms, Maraj." Onika rolled her eyes and slumped in her chair."
Beyoncé sat directly across from Onika.
The blonde stared at Onika through the thick lens of her glasses.
Beyoncé was socially awkward and she didn't talk to many people. She talked to her therapist every Tuesday and Thursday's— she thought of her as a bestfriend.
Her therapist new everything about her— from the thing in between her legs to the books she read.
She didn't speak up during the meetings because her business was simply just her business. Everybody respected that.
When her parents said they wanted a change for her— she didn't know they were going to send her to a Mental health facility.
Oh boy, did she complain— she couldn't do what she regularly did. Read, take walks, draw, or even sleep. They were on a tight schedule— they had to fit in school, therapy or anger management classes, their three meals, shower's, and their extracurricular activity.
She hated being watched over— she wanted some type of freedom. That couldn't be found here.
The most freedom that was allowed was during lunch. You could either sit in your room or go to lunch. Beyoncé didn't eat much so she always opted to go to her room.
Lunch lasted about forty-five minutes— most times she sat at her desk ready or was asleep. Which ever one comforted her that day— which was mostly reading.
