I'm not alone after all (Bloody painter {Helen Otis} x OC)

Chapter 8

        The man wore a black, a black suit, a black tie, and shiny black dress shoes. He wore gell in his hair dark hair wich shined in the lighting of the room. He had a look of absolute disgust, after looking at the wall I had just improved in his dark brown eyes. His looks strongly reminded me of a snobby, rich, banker. He was carrying a clipboard and a pen. He sat in the desk chair and clicked his pen while crossing his legs. I watched him closely surveying him and he watched me aswell writing notes on every move I made. He gave me a feeling like he was superior and I had to impress him so I stood up and walked over to the bad sat down trying to avoid slouching. He was scribbling on his paper very quickly and there was no doubt in my mind that he was writing what I just did.

We sat in silence before he broke it. "So, that's an interesting change to the wall" I nodded in agreement. I didn't think that he liked it, but I didn't care. I liked it and that's all that mattered in my mind. They could clean it up as soon as they let me free. "What, uh, inspired you to do that?" "Well I have gained an absolute hate for the shade white, it's just too dull. But this," I gestured to the wall. "This is wonderful." He had a looked displeased very uncomfortable but he continued to scribble on his notes and mumbled "Yes, well it's not how it was before you came." I sat there waiting for him to say something more. He looked at me and said, "Now, Mz. Katie, my name is Dr. Jack, I will be here to talk to you daily till you leave. In the paperwork that I have read over it informs me that your stay is planned for 5 days where we will evaluate you and then decide weather you will be staying longer or not. It also informs me that you had a huge, erm, "blow up" after your bestfriend died, is that correct?" I nodded not wanting to say anything because if I did I knew that my voice would be all over the place. I looked down trying to stop myself from crying, it wouldn't be good if someone like him saw me cry. After taking a deep breath I looked back up at him. He was scribbling on his paper again, and I had a feeling I knew why.

"Would you please explain to me what caused that?" This guy was really annoying me, HE SERIOUSLY WANTED ME TO EXPLAIN TO A COMPLETE STRANGER WHY I REACTED THE WAY I DID AT BEING IN THE PLACE MY DEAD FRIEND LOVED MOST?! Honestly, he was the worst therapist I had ever heard of. Since he was the one I was cursed with and he was writing everything down I decided I had no choice to explain but I would try to stay normal, maybe then he would decide that I could leave soon. I started trying to explain the situation in a monotone voice, "well my best friend, the person who I cared for most in this world ended her life, and I was in complete despair. Then I'm forced to go to school, the place she was absolutely obsessed with. Just being outside the building I wanted to run away and cry, but I had to go so I stepped inside. Everything seemed to be completely upside down without her there. It was far to much to me to handle. It was worse than pouring salt and lemon juice on a open cut. And I didn't really know what next, it all just, just happened." Just like I had suspected, my voice was a mess. I didn't realize it until I had spoken and my shirt was slightly damp, but hot tears were streaming down my face. I quickly wiped them away trying to stop myself. I failed myself. I let him know everything. I just wanted to seem like everything was okay, but obviously that wasn't what happened. I said it all without even meaning to. I guess it was finally having the opportunity to tell someone and not keep in all in.

He didn't speak for a while and that gave me time for a self evaluation. Next time I was forced to speak I was going to be like a brick wall, I needed to get out of here as soon as possible and throwing a fit was not going to help me win freedom. After writing he looked at me and said "Well I'm sorry for you loss, and everything else. For the rest of our session I just want you to tell me about yourself, what kind of stuff do you like to do? "Draw" I mumbled. "Oh interesting, what kind of stuff do you like to draw?" "Just things". "Oh". "Yeah". "What's you favorite subject?" "Lunch".