Appointment

First Appointment

"Camera is set up, audio working, alright. We're good." Mark adjusted his camera, turning it on to record.
"Aaaalright. First appointment with a new patient. Wish me luck." He took a deep breath, grinning at the recording. He turned around to face the doorway when he heard it creak open. A young man stepped inside.
He had faded green hair, pale skin, and a lithe body. His facial hair was grown in such a way that it looked like he was simply too lazy to shave. The man had piercing blue eyes, filled with a deep despair. Dark circles were under his eyes, and his entire being just spoke "tired". Glancing slowly around the room, he eventually laid eyes on Mark. A little bit startled by Mark's fiery red hair, his eyes widened.
"Hello. Are you Sean McLoughlin, my patient?" Mark asked politely. The male nodded sullenly, slumping down into a chair.
"Don't call me Sean. Jack, please." He ordered quietly. Mark was slightly surprised at the Irish accent the man had, but shrugged.
"Okay, whatever you want." He said congenially.
"Alright. First order of business...um, how was your day?" Mark tilted his head. Jack snorted.
"...same as all the other ones." He said limply, his green hair falling over his face. It was so pale and faded that it was obvious he didn't bother re-dying it, and didn't plan to.
"And that would mean...?" Mark pressed gently. Jack glared at him, before sighing.
"Why do you care? You're just doing this to get paid." He griped, dodging the question. Mark nodded.
"Good point, good point. OR, maybe, just maybe, I'm actually curious and I want to know how you're feeling so I can help you. Just-just throwing that out there." He replied sassily, but in a nice way. He didn't have much information on this McLoughlin, just that on December 17th, XXXX he tried to commit suicide by jumping off a tall building.
Jack raised an eyebrow, surprised to hear anything other than false comfort flow from the therapist's lips.
"..." He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. There were too many things he wanted to say, and at the same time he didn't want to say anything at all.
"...That's alright. If you really don't want to, or if you can't, you don't have to." Mark said quietly, smiling gently. Jack tried again, but failed. He just shook his head. Mark nodded in understanding.
"...this is a waste of time." Jack muttered. Mark tilted his head.
"Ah, and why do you think that?"
"This isn't going to help me. I don't see how it can fix anything." He complained, glaring down at the floor. Mark shrugged.
"You want a magical pill to fix everything in your life, you probably go find a drug dealer or some shit. Here? All we can do is offer you some kind words and somebody to lean on. I guess, no, that doesn't seem so substantial to you. But sometimes, it's enough for people to get back on their feet." Mark replied seriously. Jack looked up at him, and a bit of the skepticism dissipated from his gaze.
"...think it'll be enough for me?" He asked quietly, unable to look Mark in the eye.
"That's what we're going to find out. And I'll be damned if you aren't at least a little bit okay when we're done." Mark grinned. Jack snorted again, but a little less disdainfully. There might have even been a sliver of hope in his eyes.
Jack had been to many therapists before Mark. Before and after the fall. None of them could help. They all wore the same fake smiles, asked the same generic questions, said the same encouraging things.
Maybe it was because Mark seemed to understand a little bit more than he had expected. Maybe it was because he proved he had a personality, that he wasn't just regurgitating practiced phrases. Maybe it was because he seemed less formal and more homey.
But for some reason, Jack believed that maybe he could trust him a little more.
"Alright, shoot." He said quietly. Mark smiled at the positive response. He was getting somewhere.
"Well, let's start with getting to know each other."
"Eugh."
"Yeah, I know, ewwww, acquaintanceship. It's the most boring part of these things."
Jack chuckled, surprisingly. Mark smiled hopefully.
"Alright, so what do I do?" Jack asked.
"What's your favorite color?"
"Green."
"What's your favorite number?"
"Seven."
"Do you gamble a lot?"
"What? No."
"Sorry, just, your favorite color is green and your favorite number is seven. I felt like I had to ask." The elicited another chuckle from Jack as he shook his head.
"I don't gamble, man."
"Aaaalright. You have any pets?"
"Nah. Used to. Dog named Gizmo."
"What happened? If you don't mind me asking."
"I took him back to the pound. Before I jumped."
"I see." Mark nodded sympathetically.
"Yeah. He was a good dog."
"You should get him back."
"First thing I tried when I got back, honestly. He had already been taken to a new home."
"Aww. I'm sorry about that."
"I don't really care, I guess. As long as he's with a good home." Jack said nonchalantly, but it was clear it must've hurt.
"He's gotta be. Got any other family?"
"I...fell out of touch with them. I didn't really want to talk to anyone. I had a girlfriend. She moved in with me, but...she said she was too scared I would jump again. She said...she wouldn't be able to handle it. So she just left."
"Really? That sounds like the exact opposite of the things you should do."
"Yeah, I know, it fucking sucks."
"People, man. People are weird."
"Well, you would know. You talk to us crazies every day."
"You're not crazy."
"Normal people don't jump off of buildings, Hun." Jack replied icily.
"But I wouldn't go so far as to say you're crazy. You're just...really sad, and...you want a way out of it. I'm not saying what you did was the right thing to do, hell no, but...you're not crazy."
"I think that was...a really bad compliment? Maybe? I mean, I can't fuckin' tell. But I think I understand what you're saying." Jack scratched his head. There was a moment of silence, before the timer's ring echoed through the room.
"Seriously? It's already been an hour?" Jack looked around, surprised.
"Yeah, I know. Time flies when you're in therapy." Mark said somewhat sarcastically. Jack snorted, shaking his head.
"Well, I guess that's it then. I come back...next week, right?" Mark nodded, and Jack opened the door to leave. Turning back for a second, he muttered a hurried 'thanks' before scurrying out the door.
Once Jack left, Mark sighed quietly. He had made some progress. It was clear this guy had some serious walls built up. He hoped that during the next session, he'd be able to learn what actually happened to Jack. He turned off his recordings and sat down at his computer, starting to type.
"January 4th, XXXX. My first meeting with patient Sean McLoughlin. He prefers the name Jack. I have yet to discover what happened that drove him to attempt suicide. I have, however, diminished a few of his walls. I learned that his girlfriend left him and his dog has a new family. He's pulled communications with his family, so I might assume he doesn't have anyone. There is little to catch him after the jump, so we could be teetering on the brink of a relapse. But, there is hope. He seems to respond well to humor. I think...I think I can save this one." He typed, biting his lip. No, don't say that. He could definitely save this one. No matter what. He wasn't going to let anybody jump again.
The next appointment is in one week.