Put You First (Camcy)

"Why are you here, Lucy?"

I ain't even gonna deny it, I'm Lucy trash.

"Why are you here, Lucy?"

The walls were patterned. Why were the walls patterned? Lucy would've thought that she'd opt for walls that offer a sense of calmness...maybe a soft green or dull yellow...sky blue even. Not white and red stripes. Definitely not white and red stripes.

Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe it wasn't in her best interest.

But Lucy had had those thoughts circulating around her head from the moment she decided that she needed this and bailing out now...didn't seem like an option.

It was the third time she'd asked Lucy that very same question, the teenage delinquent had kept her lips sealed the first two times, but she figured she should probably answer the question. If she wanted this to work...she had to put in some work.

"This...it's all private, right? Like, you can't tell anyone?"

"It would breach my confidentiality agreement. I could be discredited, so yes, this is all private. However, if something you tell me is deemed a danger to you or someone else...I am well within my rights to report it."

So no...not all of what Lucy wanted to tell her would remain private, but she had to try.

"What if I told you I'm associated with a drug dealer?"

"I can't say I'm inexperienced in learning that information. I can keep that private." The psychiatrist didn't look like what Lucy imagined her to look like.

She was a young blonde, young as in her early thirties. She was admittedly beautiful; soft blue eyes, blemish-free, fair skin. Her hair was gold and almost stark yellow in certain lights and she had a plump set of lips that were coated in red lipstick.

"Start from the beginning," 

"Beginning of?"

"You, I guess." The woman's eyes were so steady and controlled, Lucy felt small meeting her gaze.

"Okay..." She ran a hand through her hair before sitting back on the annoyingly comfortable seat. "If I'm honest, I don't think I can remember a time when I wasn't completely fucked up. So I guess I should start from what I can remember."

With a small nod from the woman sitting before her, Lucy sighed.

"My first memory was walking past a pet shop," Lucy closed her eyes for a moment. "There were these puppies, don't ask me what breed, I have no fucking clue, but they were puppies and they were happy, you know? Puppies are always so fucking happy all the time, I guess that's why I'm a cat person." She shrugged before opening her eyes. "I wanted one and, I mean, I'm an only child, you know? Didn't really have many friends growing up besides Zayn, we'll get to him later, so I wanted that kind of companionship, I guess."

"But you didn't get a puppy."

"How'd you figure?" Lucy frowned.

"You'd be smiling if you did, you're frowning."

"I didn't get a puppy." Lucy confirmed with a nod. "My dad...he said we couldn't afford a puppy, which was bullshit because he'd just given his supplier five grand half an hour earlier in the parking lot." She scoffed and a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes spread onto her lips. "That was my first proper memory. Seeing my dad do a deal and finding out he didn't care enough about me to even entertain the idea of a pet."

Lucy sort of expected the woman to be writing things down, doing some kind of psychological report on what she was saying, but those blue eyes were trained on her with an understanding look reflected in them. There was no judgment, no blame or sympathies...she just...got it.