Empty Chair

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Putting on a pair of jeans, I went over to my dresser, opened the first drawer, and took out an old grey sweater that said in big bold letters, "THE POUNDING PANDAS" on the front. Yeah, my school doesn't exactly have the most ferocious mascot, but the guy who wears the costume during a sports game doesn't seem to mind because he gets a lot of attention from every girl; whether they're girls rooting for the other team or not. The costume basically... well in my eyes it just looks like a black and white ball of fur, but apparently every other girl thinks otherwise. They should just put a sign on the costume saying, "Come cuddle and rub yourself on this old sweaty costume for my enjoyment."

Looking in my mirror to see my reflection, I nodded in approval. I inherited pretty much all of my mom's looks. Small nose, blonde hair, fair skin, and big brown eyes. But I have my dad's attitude. I don't like to admit it, but I know I'm stubborn, and also shy, short tempered, and sometimes a neat freak... thanks dad. I don't know how my parents even liked each other; they're like polar opposites.

Taking a hair tie, I put my long blonde strands in high ponytail. Mascara is my go-to everyday, but I didn't feel like doing it today. So I decided it's going to be more of a lazy day.

As I made it out of my room, I went over to my Aunt who is currently passed out on the couch.

"Hey." I said while nudging her shoulder. She responded with an irritated moan and went back to snoring. I nudged her shoulder again, but recieved no response. Sighing in aggrivation I started shaking her shoulder which got her to open her eyes.

"The heck?!"

I smiled in achievement. "I'm going out for a while." This got her to fully open her eyes. She looked me up and down.

"You look like shit."

I looked down at my dirty converse, skinny jeans, oversized grey sweater and frowned.

"... well it's a good thing your opinion doesn't concern me." I know I don't look that great, but I'm comfy.

She scoffed at my reply and turned her body around so that she was facing the couch. Taking this as a sign that our conversation is finished, I left for the front door.

-----

One hundred sixty eight hours.

Seven days.

One week.

I've been doing this for one whole week so far, and I still have eleven more to go. But ya know, who's counting?

Walking into Belinda's Bakery, yet again, I noticed the place was covered with Christmas decorations from top to bottom. I ordered my usual from Eric at the counter but then asked him, "Don't you think it's a little late for Christmas decorating? The holiday is in like two days."

He chuckled, "Yeah, well Belinda and I have been too busy this season with all the new customers, that we didn't get to put them up. So, we had Daniel put up all of the decorations last night."

I nodded understanding. He walked away to get my order ready, so I stood there waiting.

You know that feeling when someone is staring at you? I have that feeling and it's creeping me out. I looked over my shoulder and lo and behold, the new guy Daniel is staring at me. As soon as I met his eyes he looked away. I kept looking at him questioningly but was soon snapped out of it when Eric placed my order in front of me. Thanking him, I left to my usual small booth.

Sighing, I started to do what my therapist advised me to do almost a year ago. I first placed one hot cocoa and cookie on the other side of the table, and then placed the other hot cocoa and cookie in front of me. Taking a bite out of my cookie, I thought back to the first time I was told about this.

~~~~~

"What is this method called again?"

"I, and some of my other colleagues, call this the "Empty Chair" method. Other people have different names for it though."

Nodding slowly at my new therapist, I asked again. "And how does this work exactly?"

"Well, it's pretty simple. You just pretend there is a person in an empty chair, one that you trust or feel the need to talk to, and you say what you want to say to them without them actually being there."

"And why do you think this will help me?"

"Heather, in your particular situation, I think you need someone to just talk to and confide in. And usually, as your therapist, that would be me. But I can tell your keeping yourself from telling me everything I need to know to help you. That's okay. This is why this method is great. You can talk to whomever you feel comfortable talking to. Also, there is no regret in things you said to them because they didn't actually hear you."

"Okay..." I considered it.

"Now, this works even better if you do it in places you feel comfortable. If there are places you know of that you and that person went and had good times in, then do it there. It brings positiveness into what you're talking about. For example, a park, maybe your room, or a restaurant..."

~~~~~

Later on that day, I went straight to Belinda's Bakery and tried it out for the first time. I had informed Belinda and Eric about it, they were supportive. But after a while, I didn't feel like I needed to do it anymore. I started to feel better, but here I am now, doing it again. I almost forgot how relaxing it was to confide in someone. I still haven't told anyone who that "person" is though.

Picking at my cookie, I finally decided to skip my "conversation" and head home. I drank the last of the hot cocoa and got ready to leave when I noticed him looking at me again. I noticed nothing more than pure curiosity in his stare. Avoiding his eyes, I stayed in my seat. I'll leave when he looks away.

But he didn't. Refusing to look up at him, I trailed my eyes on the ground and saw his feet walking towards me. I was about to quickly get up and leave but it was too late.

"What's your story?" he said abruptly. I heard that familiar spanish accent.  

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"I see you come in the bakery everyday. You buy two hot chocolates, two cookies, sit here, eat one of each, you don't even touch the other two, and leave. Now, my only question: what is your story?" He sat down in  the booth seat across from me.

"I don't know you." I spoke for the first time since he came over here. 

"Good. That means we're on the same page when it comes to knowing each other." I almost laughed, he was very quick with his answers.

"Why do you want to know my story?"

"You peek my interest."

I sighed. "Well, good luck getting to know my story. I have to go." I shot up from my seat to leave when he spoke.

"At least tell me your name?"

"Heather." I replied while walking away.

"Last name?"

I was already at the door when I called back, "Next time."

----- 

A/N

Okay, so I've decided not to set a deadline as to when I update because, well I obviously suck at them. I like to write when I'm in the mood or it feels right. Anything that is written under forced conditions never comes to its full potential.

Also, if you know someone who you think looks like Heather, comment and tell me! I picked AnnaSophia Robb, but I'm open to all suggestions.