"She was beautiful. She truly was. That dark skin that brightened everytime we stepped out in the sun. Her curly hair blowing lightly when the car window was down. Her motherly scent which consisted of vanilla and ginger lingering in my nose as a wa...
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"Guilt is perhaps the most painful companion of death" - CoCo Chanel
Dylan's P.O.V
The clock ticking at every second blared in my ears and my head started to throb. The sun hiding behind the blinds of the very broad glass window seemed to be the only thing my eyes can focus on. I blinked slowly and looked around me. There were multiple pictures of brains and infographics with facts about the human mind. Only a few showed flowers and random drawings of vases, which were labeled by different clients' names.
Two chairs that were very comfortable being that it was made of synthetic microfiber sat in the middle of the breezy air-conditioned room. However, both of the chairs were occupied. By me and this foolery of a therapist- or whatever she is called, Dr. Hersley.
"Dylan?" Dr. Hersely called. I managed to look at her, but it felt as though I were cross-eyed. Her voice sounded louder than usual or maybe I wasn't paying that close attention to her at all, which would be a waste of money. My parents noticed crazy shit happening between me being distant for some reason and thought it would be a great idea on giving me therapy sessions. How kind.
"Yeah? What's up?" I responded stupidly. The whole reason I was here was because I had to listen to her idiot, I told myself.
She chuckled, which gave me a glimpse of her crooked teeth. Yikes.
Her manicured hand reached for her glasses and pulled them off her face. "Dylan... I know you don't want to be here and that you would rather be with your 'bros' or those video games you boys love so much. But I do want to let you know that I am here with you and you have the choice to trust me and feel better by talking about your problems. I'll help you find the solution you're looking for. Promise me."
I snorted. Help me? This lady wouldn't help me. Not after everything I have seen and witnessed. I knew so much to the point of not even being able to deal with myself or even take a glance in the mirror. These kinds of people only deal with depression and anxiety. I don't have either of those problems. I have something worse. Something that is serious.
If I even open my mouth and spill a hint of it, she'll do something I don't want her to.
"Sorry, I'm just adjusting to the new environment of therapy. I don't even know what to say to you," I said shyly. That was half the truth, I didn't know what to say. However, I wasn't really new to the therapy. When my grandpa died two years ago, I was really close to him. The loss brought me down and my parents claimed I needed to go to therapy.
I hated it. Nothing the therapist said was new to me. It was the same old, "busy yourself with school and activities, join a sport, talk with people and family, etc." It was just a waste of money. Same as now.
The difference between now and then is that I might've needed therapy with my past problem since it's a common thing to go to therapy for, but now that I have a worse issue... I don't know how she will help.
"Don't worry," Dr. Hersley smiled. "A lot of people act that way when they're new actually. But we might have to wrap this up. The hour session is over and I hope I at least tried to comfort you during the time."
I looked at the clock. Wow, an hour really did pass. That meant I spent the whole time being dazed and not communicating with her.
I stood up slowly and nodded. "Yeah, you tried. Bye," I said, quickly. I was about to reach for the doorknob and turn it to go, but she placed her hand on my arm lightly.
"Listen, you have a good night. Okay? Get a lot of rest and place relaxation on your schedule. You need it," she said legitimately sounding concerned. Her eyebrows furrowed together and her short brown bob looked stiffer than normal.
I nodded and opened the door. More cool air breezed in my face as I went into the waiting room. Only two other clients were sitting on the wooden chairs waiting. One of them was a dude in matching sweatshirt and sweatpants on his phone bouncing his leg up and down. The other one was a girl around my age who looked terrified. Her eyes were expanded, looking as if they would fall out at any minute. However, they looked exhausted at the same time. Dark circles under them as if she hasn't slept in months. Her straight blonde hair looked unkempt and knotted. She put her nails in her mouth and bit them as she waited to be called by her therapist.
Poor girl.
********
I opened the door to my house and the smell of freshly made pasta filled the air. I kicked off my white Adidas shoes and made my way into the kitchen where I can hear my sister talking to our dog in a loud baby voice. As I reached the arch where it leads into the kitchen, I saw my mother holding her wine glass close to her chest and whispering about things to my father. They seemed deep into a conversation as they jumped when I coughed.
Their eyes met the floor at the same time and acted as if they weren't speaking. My mother gave me her soft side smile. They were talking about me.
"Hey, honey! How was therapy?" She asked. My sister, Brandy, giggled as the word 'therapy' came up.
I rolled my eyes at Brandy. Ugh, 14-year-olds would never understand.
"Fine, I guess," I responded. Actually, it was stupid and worthless!
"Your mother made pasta if you're hungry," my dad added.
"I'm not hungry."
I made my way up the long stairway and down the hall into my room. I was in no mood to speak to anybody.
I flew into my bed and logged onto my Mac. For some reason, my bed felt extra comfortable this time. My hands googled the words 'murder of Aaliyah Kelly' without approval from my brain.
There she was. That lady I saw about a month ago.
Guilt filled my head as I saw the pictures of her. A beautiful black woman who had a family with a big heart. My stomach did a turn. It felt as though my lungs couldn't allow my body to breathe anymore and that God cut all the oxygen from me.
I shut my laptop and threw my laptop away from me. I caught my breath and placed my hands on my head.
What was wrong with me?
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Thank you so much for reading this chapter and even choosing to read this book! I love y'all endlessly and thank you guys for the support. Make sure to vote, share, and follow me! I know this part seemed rushed but I have been deleting and rewriting in order for me to just finish it. But... I, unfortunately, gave up lmao. But hopefully you like it and I wouldn't expect the best writing since I'm not that experienced. I tried my best!
