Visions (a phanfiction)

Who is he

It's almost like reaching into a dark void, but you can't touch the end. Grasping on to an image which will go away. As it slowly fades into a blur, you try to remember. Once it's gone, it never comes back. It leaves you there, in a blank room with a confused mind and unanswered questions. One may wonder why. Or perhaps how is a more appropriate question to ask. Either way, it's all an unsolved mystery waiting to be cracked.

I lay in a small room, painted white walls with pictures of people and places I've never seen before. The scratches of a ballpoint pen rests in the hand of an older male. He sits in a swivel chair right beside the bed in which I close my eyes and rest. Most of the time he asks me questions, questions I don't dare to answer. Nor do I intend to ever confront the problems that lay before him on his paper. I twiddle with my thumbs, each finger crossing over one another in a specific pattern. I ignore the warmth of the room, and how tiny beads of sweat roll down my cheeks as I stare at the ceiling.

The uneven patterns of the tiles above strike me as I connect one paint chip to another. Almost like constellations, but with the inconvenience of being indoors as you draw out and depict a shape. I can still remember the sweet lemonade that had been served as my family and I star gazed. The tart lemon flavor gave a kick to the sugar that had been mixed in, leaving a refreshing aftertaste in my mouth.
I breathed out a heavy sigh, reminiscing about that night I never want to forget. It returns in my dreams as shooting stars graze across the sky, leaving a bright trail behind the lit object. As I stare up towards space, I make a wish. A wish that I've kept holding onto for many years. Even till this day, I don't plan to ever let go and release it through my fingertips.

I pause, glancing over towards the glass of water near the stand to my left. The intricate red wood engravings left me longing to run my fingers along the design. Smooth, yet rounded as each line curved into swirls and shapes. The legs of the table wobbled as I swiftly sat up and grabbed the cup. Slow sips is what my mom would always say. I especially would hear this phrase a lot when I would try to go to sleep, or when I had morned over a pet gold fish that had passed away. Even as I take a sip of water now, I always remember what she would say in certain situations. It stuck with me after a while, which I must admit, comes in handy sometimes.

I look down at the water, watching the ripples move in an outwards motion. It left me transfixed as I slowly took small sips out of the cup. It leaves a satisfied outcome as the dryness is soothed from the refreshing drink. I glance upward towards a middle aged male who always wears a white, button up shirt with a grey jacket. To add towards his outfit of choice, he sports slightly loose, black jeans and black dress shoes. His glasses fall slightly off his nose as he reaches up to readjust every few minutes.

On the wall towards the back of the room, I watch the grand dad clock as seconds tick by. I wonder when the longer hand will spring on the twelve as the smaller line points towards the three. Silence has occupied the room for the majority of today's session. Not only is it frustrating being sent here without my consent, but getting the silent treatment is adding towards this painful experience.

"So Daniel, have you been experiencing anything different recently?" the male started, "something that had been troubling you perhaps." I shook my head in response, not daring to look at him face to face. I stare at the glass of water that is trembling in my hand. The splashing sounds of tiny waves crash against the side of the cup, and I desperately tried to stop shaking. It's hard to believe that the guy sitting next to me hasn't noticed my weird behavior.

It's difficult to explain really, how this session came about. To my extent of knowledge, not even I could say what the real answer would be. To put it simply, everyone is confused. This including me, for most of my life.

I've always felt responsible for everything my parents are going through, especially now in the present. We've had to move so many times before now because of what I have to deal with. My mom thinks it would be better to stay in one place for a while, currently since I'm in high school. She only wants what's best for me, and thinks it would be better for me to live a normal life as a teenager. Romance, parties, and school are what I would consider a regular teenage dream. For me, I can't quite grasp the concept yet. Although, it's always been this way since I can remember.