Therapy

You push your books in to your overfilled locker and quickly close it before everything falls out.
You sigh as you correct your sweatshirt.
You're wearing plain, black jeans and a black, too big, Blink-182 sweatshirt. Your bleached silver-white hair is put up in a high ponytail and the lace on your left, black converse was un tied.

You walk trough the hallway, constantly looking around so no one would notice where you where going. Especially not Amanda or Todd.
You haven't told them. You can't tell then! They can't know.

"Shit what's the time?" You mumble for yourself and take your phone out.
Okay it's 1.45 pm which means you're supposed to be there in 5.

You have a free period every Wednesday and Thursday at 1.40 am. Both those periods you spend at the therapists office in school.
You can't say you like therapy but you don't hate it either. You can't yourself see any progress but you're not worse.

Your biggest fear when you started to go to therapy was that everyone would bully you for it. Think you where a psychotic bitch. Some freak that no one wanted to be with. That's why no one knows about it. Not even your mom nor your brother. Not Amanda and not Todd. Only the schools therapist
Sandra Kelly. She is 29 and started working for the school just two years ago. The last therapist was a 60 year old women named Muriel. She had sharp, purple lips and small glasses.
No one went to her ever. Everyone was scared of her. Even the cool Junior guys wanted to be near her.
But ever since Sandra started working you've gone there for therapy sessions twice a week.

You look behind you one last time. Everyone that has a free period is outside in the warm weather and everyone else is in class so the hallway is empty. You turn left and enter the waiting room for both the therapist and the school nurse.

You sit down in one of the chairs but you can't even sit a second before Sandra opens the door.

"Ella! Come in..."
She smiles. You stand up and walk in to her office. The room is furnished with a big, wooden desk, one chair before it where you sat and on the other side was Sandra's chair. On the side of the room was two bookcases holding at least a hundred files. There was only one window in the room and thin curtains covering it, letting just enough of light in to the room.

"So how are you Ella?"
She smiles as you both sit down.
As usual she has placed a cup of hot water before you and on the corner of her big desk stood a metal box with different teas and also a small, glass bowl with sugar cubes.

"I'm fine..."
You say and open the tea box and take out Earl Grey and grab one sugar cube.

"I'm fine?" Sandra repeats and you look up at her. She has her pen in her hand and her bleached yellow notepad before her.

"Can you please try to define that?"
She say and you sigh.

"I'm still alive I mean! I haven't killed myself of depression. I haven't taken any drugs, I haven't lost my mom, I still have friends..." you say. Sandra was annoying mostly but she was here for you and didn't question your decisions in life. You liked her more than anyone else. Even Amanda and Todd.

"Well that's good I guess..."
She laughs lightly before writing something on the notepad. You have always wanted to know what she was writing. Is she writing what you say? Or what feelings you have? If you make any progress? If you're mentally insane?

"How was classes today?"
She say and she take a sip of her coffee.

"English was okay... That Trevor guy that sits next to me keep staring at my breasts which I have told him not to like a hundred of times."

"How exactly do you tell him not to look at you? She ask. She always need a more developed answer from you.
Whenever you answer she has a new question on that answer.

"I tell him to fuck off!"
You say and take the tea cup in your hand, cross your legs and lean back in the spinning chair.

"Do you think you can do that in any other way? Maybe ask him politely?"
she suggests and you feel the smile creep on to your face. You swallow your mouth full of tea before answering.

"He is a douche... Why should I be nice to a douche bag?" You say like it was obvious which it is to you.

"Maybe he would react differently and maybe even listen to what you say if you ask more politely and grown up?"
Sh suggests again. Trevor is this big, buff guy in your English class. He is taller than you even when you sit down so he has a good view to stare down your top. Annoying as hell.

"Boys are all the same! All they care about is sex. They don't give a fuck about feelings. They are dumb, unintelligent, undeveloped creatures and the world would be so much better without them..."
You laugh before putting your tea cup on the table and shift your legs as you cross for left leg over your right.

"Can your opinion have anything to do with how your dad was when you where younger?" She ask and you froze for a second. You hate bringing up your dad. He is the reason you are here.
Why you are so fucked up on the inside.

"I don't know I mean - maybe..."
You stutter and place your hands on your thighs.

"It would make since to have that opinion on men after what your dad did..." She say and write something.
You can't stop yourself before you ask.

"What are you writing?"
Your blurt out and Sandra looks up a little surprised.

"What do you think I'm writing?"
She asks. So therapist-like. To re ask the question.

"I think you're writing that I'm a freak..." You say and look down at your ripped jeans.

"That's not what I'm doing..."
She chuckles and put her pen at the table and connect her hands together in her lap.

"I'm writing that your thoughts are normal after what you've gone trough. I'm writing some things that you say and I'm writing things that I should change..." She say and now you're the one that's surprised.

"What you should change?"
You ask her with a puzzled look.
What should she change?

"I'm not a perfect therapist! I am maybe asking things when I actually should wait a moment, maybe I start the session with a subject I should have ended with and on and on..."
She say and pick her pen up again too write something.

"What are you writing now?"
You ask as your curiousness has gotten the best of you.

"That I should tell my patients what I'm writing..." She say with a smile.

-

Sandra ended the session 10 minutes earlier which was perfect for you. Then you could sneak back in the corridor before everyone's classes ended.
Just so you would t get caught walking from the therapists office.
Like you had hoped, the hallway is empty when you enter it.

You walk to your locker and grab your
pen and notebook before you walk to chemistry class. Last class of the day luckily.