therapy [h.s.]

Two

I was shook awake, and I looked towards my mom who was in the drivers seat. She was obviously yelling at me, but I couldn't hear her because of the music blaring in my ears. I pulled out an ear bud.

"We're here, get out," she said, before she opened her door. I looked ahead of me, and nevertheless, we were in a parking lot. I sighed, turning off my music, and getting out of the car. I looked to my mom who was pulling her shirt down to show cleavage, and her skirt up to show more leg.

"What are you doing?" I asked her, raising an eyebrow.

"I saw a picture of this guy online; he's hot. Don't give me that look you little brat, I have a better chance with him than you do." She walked ahead of me, her heels clicking on the concrete. I rolled my eyes, disgusted that my mom was trying to impress this guy when she was married to my dad; at least now she was. They never seemed to get along anymore. I followed her inside at a slow pace. She approached a glass window, and the woman on the other side pulled it open.

"Hello, my daughter has an appointment with Mr. Harry Styles," she said politely, making me want to gag. She was so fake in front of other people.

"Oh alright. Go down the hall and turn left, his office is the second one on the right." My mom smiled.

"Thank you so much." She started down the hallway and I followed. She followed the woman's directions, arriving in front of a door with "MR. HARRY STYLES" printed on it. She pulled her shirt down once more, before knocking on the door. We heard a faint 'come in' coming from the inside, and my mom wasted no time in opening the door.

It was a good sized office. It had enough room for a large dark wood desk, and two leather chairs beside the desk. At the desk sat a young man with dark brown curls. His head was tilted down as he wrote something down. He looked up when he heard us walk in, and a warm smile spread across his face.

"Hello, you must be Emma," he said, looking at me. He politely stood up and walked around the desk.

"Yea," I mumbled, before being interrupted by my rude mother.

"And I'm her mother, Linda Steven. It's great to meet you Mr. Styles." My mom shook his hand eagerly, as her eyes scanned his body. He wasn't an ugly guy, but the way my mom was looking at him was disgusting.

"It's nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Steven. So, Emma-"

"I've noticed you have an accent Mr. Styles. Are you from Britain? I find foreign men very attractive."

"I am, but I believe we're here to discuss Emma."

"Oh yes. She'll only be needing this one free session, and then she'll be out of your life forever. On the other hand, I'm always here if you need anything."

"That's very kind of you Mrs. Steven. Now if you'll excuse us, I'm going to speak with Emma for a few moments."

"Sure. I'll be in the waiting room." She shot him a wink before leaving. He let out a breath and then ran his fingers through his curly locks.

"Emma, please, take a seat." I hesitantly sat in one of the leather chairs. He went to his desk briefly and was looking through some papers.

"So how're you?" He asked from his desk.

"Okay," I said vaguely. He took a seat in the chair across from the one I was sitting in.

"Alright. So Emma, I'd love to get to know you better. Tell me about yourself, what are your interests?"

"I like music."

"That's cool. What else?" I paused, thinking of something else I liked, or at least something I could pretend to like. He chuckled at my silence.

"Not into anything else?" He asked. I shrugged.

"I don't really like much."

"Why is that?"

"I don't know. What's the point?"

"The point of what?"

"I don't know, living?"

"Are you saying you don't want to be alive?"

"Maybe, I'd probably be better off dead."

"Why do you want to die?"

"Because I'd be stupid to live."

"Now why do you say that?"

"Because it's true. My parents hate me."

"Emma, I don't think that's true."

"You wouldn't know. You don't live with them."

"Do they treat you badly at home?"

"They just," I stopped. "Why am I telling you this? I've already told you too much." I stood up, and he did too.

"Emma," he started, placing his large hand on my shoulder, "you should feel comfortable around me. When you're talking, it's my job to listen, and I want to help you."

"Well, it doesn't matter. This is my last and only session. My parents aren't going to pay for anymore." He stood in silence for a moment.

"It's free of charge."

"What?"

"Emma, I want to help you. Together, we can get past your depression-"

"I'm not depressed!" I raised my voice.

"Well I want to help you Emma. I want you to be happy, and I know if you keep coming to talk to me, it'll be beneficial to you. So, I'll give you as many free sessions as you need."

"What if I don't think I need anymore sessions?"

"Emma, love, I really think more session would help you." I felt warmth in the pit of my stomach when he called me 'love.'

"F-fine." He smiled widely, causing dimples to indent into his cheeks.

"Great. I'll see you here tomorrow after school."

"I don't know if I'll have a ride," I said quietly.

"You know what," he wrote something down, "I can clear my schedule, and pick you up from school."

"Are you sure? You don't have to."

"It's not a problem love. Now let's go, I'll walk you out to your mother."

sorry I haven't updated in forever, but here's part two! vote and comment please. thanks xx

- Maddie