no strings attached :: a.i.

03 : mute

I didn't plan on it, my legs just started moving and my brain didn't catch up until I was downtown. I slowed my steps and eventually my breathing slowed too. What was wrong with me? I knew exactly what was wrong, I just didn't want to admit it.

I entered the tall brick building, reading the sign on the door. 'Jacksonville Counseling Center' I rolled my eyes and sat down in the ugly waiting room. I had started coming here when I found the telephone number on that piece of paper my grandmother had left. The only reason I still came was because that is what my grandmother wanted and I knew I needed help.

For the first few months that I had come here I was still talking, but not to my therapist, Mrs. Moore. Not talking to Mrs. Moore gave me the idea to stop talking at all after the accident. Many terrible things had happened in my life but only one of those things was an accident.

"Miss Embry, Mrs. Moore is ready for you," the attendant's false voice made me want to gag.

I stood up and followed the short woman out of the room. She led me to a different room than where I usually went to. When I got there, Mrs. Moore was standing in the hallway.

Mrs. Moore was a strange woman. She looked only about thirty-five years old but she had a permanent frown plastered across her face. As always, she had her curly, dark brown hair pulled into a tight bun. Today she wore little to no makeup. Her piercing blue eyes seemed to be staring into my sole. I never understood why they would let a person like her work at a place like this.

"Paris, I need you to open your mind for a second. We are going to try something new this week since our sessions don't seem to be having any affect." As usual, her voice was in a soft whisper. I rolled my eyes and Mrs. Moore straightened herself. She hated when I did that. "Instead of doing this one on one, we are going to try group therapy. You can be around kids your own age that are going through similar problems."

No one was going through the same problems as me. What kid's dad killed their mom and then had to move across the country just to have their new legal guardians leave them alone. Then when they finally open up to someone again, that person leaves them too. Rule number one to life, don't get attached, because everyone leaves in the end.

"So what do you think about the group?" Mrs. Moore looked at me expectantly, I just shrugged.

She sighed and opened the closed door beside her. Inside was a ring of six chairs and three kids; two boys and one girl. The scene playing out in front of me was a lot to take in. One of the boys was rocking back and forth in his seat, his skinny legs pulled up to his chest. His clothes were baggy and his dark brown hair fell almost to his shoulders. When he looked up at me, his shockingly blue eyes grew with shock. He immediately stopped rocking and brought his feet to the floor.

Next to the boy sat an abnormally skinny girl. She had shoulder length black hair and dark brown eyes. I would have thought she was beautiful, if I couldn't see her rib cage through her bright pink tank top. Her shirt had the words 'forever young' printed across it and she wore a pair of light blue skinny jeans that were loose around her thighs. I felt sorry for the girl, no one should ever have to starve themself to feel pretty.

On the other side of the circle sat another boy with bright red hair that stood up every which way. He had turned around when I had walked in and was still staring at me now. He had light green eyes and plump red lips. The boy wore a black muscle tank over a pair of black skinny jeans. He looked almost normal except when he smiled I knew it was fake. Something had happened to that boy that made him want to cry every time he smiled, and I felt the need to find out why. I already wanted to help this stranger and I didn't even know his name.

"Paris, this is Anthony," She said, pointing to the red headed boy. "And over there is Jake and Carly. Everybody, this is Paris. She will be joining us for today."