Supernatural Boarding School #2 - A Touch of Red ✅

Chapter 6

I found myself a new editor! KristabellePineault is truly awesome. :D Thank you so much girl, I owe you. Still miss Leonienie of course, but I have a feeling my new editor is going to do an awesome job as well. :D You, it's thanks to her that this chapter is here on time! Thanks again, girl!!!

“And how do you feel about that?”

I grunted and crossed my arms. It was the fifth how-do-you-feel question in a row; I had no feelings left to talk about at this point.

“I sense that you are getting frustrated,” the psychologist said gently. “Why is that?”

“Maybe because all I am feeling is extreme boredom and it gets old real fast to talk about that.”

The psychologist nodded and wrote something down. I couldn’t believe my eyes – that stupid comment was important enough to write down? At least the guy talking to me wasn’t old and ugly or anything. The witch was in his early thirties, he had dull brown hair pulled back into a neat ponytail and his fingers were adorned with huge antique rings. His name was Anthony Hale, “but you can call me Tony.” He was kind of eccentric with his purple rimmed glasses and the pastel colored clothing, but that was pretty cool. The only thing that bothered me was the fact that he was constantly bombarding me with questions.

“I heard you held a gun last year,” Anthony said, looking up from his block note.

“That’s not a question,” I informed him lightly. “So I do not know what you want to hear about it.”

Anthony smiled. “Why were you the one holding the gun?”

“Because Eros wouldn’t.”

“What do you mean by that?”

I sighed deeply. “That he would not hold the gun.”

“He refused?”

“Look, Tony,” I spat. “I don’t know how much you know about me and about everything that happened last year so that makes it kinda hard to know how much background you need to understand stuff.”

“I know what was said at the hearing,” he informed me. “And I read your file. But what I am curious about is how you experienced things, and I can only figure that out by letting you talk about it and hearing the words you chose to do so.”

“Well, I was with Eros, he had a gun, he wouldn’t hold it and so I had to,” I answered. “Pretty basic logic, easy words to understand.”

“Why did you feel like you had to take the gun?”

“Are you listening to me? He would not take the damn thing!” I was getting really worked up. “We needed to distract the officers and the only plan we had was to have one point a gun at the other. Pretty dumb in retrospect, since we could have just ran around yelling and climbing into lightning poles like Rennor did.”

“Why didn’t Eros want to take the gun?” Anthony asked, scribbling furiously.

“What are you writing down?” I asked, straining to see.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Do you ever not answer with a question?”

“Yes.”

“Okay… so, what are you writing about me?”

“Why do you want to know?” he repeated.

Yeah, this was getting me nowhere. “I feel like I am asked to expose myself in here, talk about my feelings and stuff, and in the meantime you just get to write all about the stuff we talk in here? It’s weird not to know what someone is writing down. And you won’t talk to me about what you think and what you feel, so why should I?” I was getting really worked up over this. I did not think psychs were necessarily bad people – they could be really helpful. My mother had told me during the summer break about seeing a psych after my dad had left. But she had chosen to go, whereas I was being forced in it. Big difference there.