Dealing with his Presence

Chapter One

''Why don't you start from the beginning? Maybe from when you woke up that night.''

It's that time of the month again; not implying the frustration and inconvenience of the 'menstrual cycle' but my special meetings I have with my psychologist. I bet you didn't expect that one.

First and foremost, it's ''Dr Taylor''. Not on first name bases yet.

She looks like what you would imagine a psychologist to look like. Tight black pencil skirt but overwhelms the attire by wearing an over sized business blazer with broad shoulders, majority of the time she will wear ballerina flats or the same old black buckled three inch heels, narrow glasses that make her look way too serious for her job and the slightest amount of makeup applied to her face; a light brush of mascara to the eyelashes, the thinnest coating of a soft honey shade of foundation to her petite face with the odd scarring of acne on her cheek, and a smudge of lip gloss will be applied but only on special occasions.

I've had these 'special meetings' for nearly seven years now.

If you knew why, it would make sense.

''Haven't I already told you my side of the story?''

Dr Taylor scribbles down something in her notepad on her lap. I bet you that she's writing about how I'm refusing to answer the question directly and making a note on my actions.

When I'm irritated, I have a tendency of picking at my nails and tensing all the muscles in my hands. When I'm angry, I usually result into punching the nearest object to me. You don't want to see that but luckily, it's rare sighting to see.

''Ms Hayes, it is required for you to at least try to cooperate with me. If any of the questions make you feel either agitated or you feel the need to express your anger.....'' bingo ''.... feel free to to inform me.''

''There's nothing wrong...... Are we nearly finished?''

''Well let's call this a wrap, shall we? We'll catch up on this the next time I see you.....''

Cutting her off mid sentence and bolt towards the door to get away from here. ''.....Okay. Bye Dr.''

In my own opinion, I say nothing's wrong with me but others would beg to differ. I keep telling my aunt but it goes through one ear and out the other. She assumes that every teenager nowadays are destine for trouble. The sinners. The Rebellions. The only thing I've done so far that is classified as being rebellious would be staying up later than 10pm. I'm not staying up later because 'I'm catching up on my social life'.... Definitely not. I just can't fall asleep.

That's only if I don't take my sleeping pills; I prefer to fall asleep naturally but some nights if I don't take them, I could stay awake for the entire week without feeling tired.

''Wow that's a record. You managed to stay there longer than 2 minutes this time. Did it go well?'' and this is my aunt. She is my caregiver. I've stayed with her for almost 7 years now.

Her dead straight pale golden blonde hair is out and accessorized with a thin pink headband placed in the middle of her forehead. Today, she must be feeling the 70's vibes as she casually wears a mini turquoise shirt dress with a high-waisted peach belt; defining her petite waist. Last but not least, topped off with her famous vibrant peach colored wedges which she absolutely adores.

''Ehh... good I guess. Nothing broken at least.'' Getting into the car and quickly close the door as I see out the corner of my eye Tracey Finkel run. ''Let's go home now.'' Putting on a fake smile. ''Like now.''

Tracey Finkel.

Let's just say, she's the type of person that you don't want to be acquainted with. She'll kiss up to anyone's arse to get what she wants and somehow succeeds with it too. Knowing her, she's probably going to start sucking up to my aunt because she's a big wig in the Debutantes. She was announced as lady of the year in '89' and with that, she made it her goal to have her own daughter and one day, teach her the ways to become 'one of them'. Sadly, that was unable to happen as she cannot have kids.

Long story short, Tracey goes to my high school and always talks to my aunt. Smooching her up with her ''WOW! Ms Hayes... I can't believe you were Miss Lady of the Year!'' blah blah blah bullshit. She just wants my aunt's vote, the sneaky troll.

We were about to pull out until a hand forcefully slams onto the window. Not too hard though, just enough to scare the living shits out of me. That sly bit-

''Hey Ms Hayes! What a pleasant surprise to see you here. I was just going for a jog around the neighborhood before I go volunteer at the orphanage nearby... '' that's a whole load of shit, more like stalking us again ''... Yeah because I just-st want to give back to the community, you know?''

''That's good to hear dear but we better get going. We'll see you around, tell your mother I said hi.''

''We? oh I didn't even see you there, Sarah.''

''My name is Destiny, not Sarah and so many coincidences, right? We seem to see you everywhere. Like yesterday, we were surprised to see you three times in less than an hour at three completely different locations. Wow! What a pleasant surprise...'' my aunt flicks my arm, warning me to cut it out but little does she know that I'm just getting started.

Tracey takes out her cellphone and puts on a little show by acting like she's in a rush. ''I better get going Ms Hayes the orphanage is calling me again. It must be urgent. Bye bye! get home safely. See yah Sar-''

Shuts the window, turns the air conditioner on full blast. ''We should get going.''

I had the urge to just throw my aunt's drink in her face and saluting her with the middle finger. I just can't stand her. The lies. The drama. The Bitchiness that comes with the whole look. She needs to tone it down. When drake said ''y'all better not come to my funeral with that fake shit..'' he was literally implying her. If she manages to keep this up for the whole semester with this shit, she better be careful or else she's going to get something she didn't expect.

''Darling, why do have to be so mean to that poor girl? she always tells me about how she tries to talk you at school but you flip her off every time.''

''Now she's being over dramatic. I don't do it all the time. It gets a bit boring after a while so I slip in a few 'fucks!' to make it better.''

''goodness gracious DESTINY! since when have I ever let you use profanity. That is not ladylike to say words like that. They're dirty words. I expected more from you. You could do better than that missy. Use FUCK OFF YOU FUCKING PRICK next time dear''

"Why do you act like that Aunt Sam? With the whole "dearest" type of bullshit"

"From all that arse kissing I feel like Royalty and somehow it makes me put on a slight British accent." Laughing ridiculously at her silly attempt of a British Cockney accent.

This is why I love my aunt with all my heart as she knows how to bring a smile to face. We are so much alike.
I guess two great minds do think alike.