Dear Diary, Book 2, Bitter Sweet...

Sunday, 5th February 2017 - Lion: Counselling

Sunday, 5th February 2017 - Lion: Counselling

Dear Diary

The hospital had a small counseling staff employed full time. To me personally, this made sense. After all, a hospital was often a place which experienced large amounts of trauma. A nurse had told me that they were always planning on sending me to speak of a member of the counseling staff, although not for a few more days. The events of yesterday had made them move up my session.

The room itself that they sent me too was of a similar size to that of my hospital room. However, it was a lot more open. It seemed to be very opening and welcoming, decorated with a nice blue carpet, as well as a large couch and several book shelves. I took a quick look at what books were being stored. They mostly seemed to be books about calming techniques.

A nurse led ushered me to the couch.

"Your counselor will be along shortly."

I accepted the offer. The large chair was made of a black leather. If the temperature of the room had matched the humidity of the outside, it would have been rather uncountable. However, the air conditioned environment made it quite enjoyable to sit on.

For however long it was until the counselor arrived, I continued to look around the room. Aside from what I had already noticed, there did not seem to be very much to it. Obviously this was it's permanent function.

Several minutes later, the counselor walked in.

"Sorry I'm late" he said as he removed the white coat he was wearing, "I was just finishing up with another patient."

He had a rather nice voice. He sounded like a person that I could warm to very quickly. This had a very immediate effect of lowering my guard. He seemed more welcoming than even the room. After fully removing the white coat, he quickly walked to the remaining chair, sitting down in a cross legged position. As soon as I saw his face, alarm bells were ringing all through me. I recognized that face. It was the face of the man with the white cloak from my dream. His face was just as lined and pockmarked with freckles as his had been. I tried not to let any of the confusion I felt show on my face, but he very obviously saw it anyway.

"Is something wrong?" he inquired.

"No" I replied quickly. Too quickly. I could see that he knew that something was wrong, although he let it pass.

He picked up a clipboard which had been leaning on his chair.

"How are you?" he asked me.

"Fine" I said instinctively.

"And how were you last week?" he replied back. Briefly, my mind back went to the bunker. He clearly saw the colour drain from my face.

"It looks like we have quite a bit of work ahead of us." He leaned forwards in his chair, placing his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, as if he was ready for a large bout of listening.

"Tell me about yourself." he said.

So I did.