Undercover Therapy

Robbie

I swear. It has been an hour already.

It has been an hour. One whole hour of waiting. What. I've been inside a gray and boring building waiting for my damn therapist who is still not here. Ugh, this wouldn't have happened if my mom walked into the room. I even planned my suicide! It looked like a foolproof and nice plan. I locked my door, closed the windows, pulled down the blinds, and turned off the lights. I even left a suicide note next to the chair I was standing on. I actually revised that note and read it a couple of times. It was perfect. But no, somehow my mom unlocked the door, and barged in without knocking. Maybe she knew? Maybe she didn't? I don't know, I could've died in peace! No one to wait for, no where to go, just perfect solitude. That's all I needed.

The place I'm in is pretty bland. The walls are gray, the carpet is brown and dirty, and the tables, couches, and everything else is white. Just plain white. Whiter than an average white mom telling everyone that she's vegan. It's just that white. My mom and I are sitting on this weird couch. It's so... How do you say it? Geometric. Yeah. It's not that comfortable and it feels like a rock. It's white and it's literally just a rectangular prism. No cushions at all. So uncomfortable. Now that I think of it, everything in the damn room is a freaking cube. It's like we're in Minecraft. Oh my god. Who the hell designed this place?

My mom keeps shaking her leg up and down. Tapping her foot, checking her watch every so often, and groaning over the fact that it's been an hour. The receptionist in the building told us that our therapist was going to arrive here soon, but nope. She still isn't here. My mom looks at me in a serious face. Kinda funny; her face is all wrinkled up and she has the weirdest frown.

"I am going to kill myself," she said. Haha, irony, I was going to kill myself.

"I was about to until you stopped me." I murmured under my breath. I looked at her, checking if she heard that but she was now too busy checking her phone.

"You know what Robbie?" she faced towards me. She was twitching. I think she's angry or something because I never see her twitch. Probably coffee or annoyed.

"What?" I asked her, worried. I swear, she's the one who needs therapy.

"I am going to call the stupid therapist," She checked her purse for her phone. By the time she found it, she used her damn index finger to call the therapist. An index finger; What an old woman. I get annoyed by the smallest things. Like for example, her using an index finger instead of her thumb. After a few minutes, which felt like an hour, she finally called the therapist. Ring ring ring. A few seconds later. I am sorry but the person who you are calling can't be reached at this moment. "Well," my mom locked her phone aggressively, "fuck you too." Well then.

A few minutes have passed. We were about to leave until we finally heard a voice.

"Hey, sorry I'm late, there was traffic, a lot of it." I turned around and see a middle age woman, probably in her late thirties. She's a blondie, married because of the diamond ring on her finger, and probably has kids since she looks tired... Maybe like one to three kids because of the wrinkles.

"Oh, it's fine." My mom said. We all smiled at each other for a minute or so. You know that smile you do after meeting a stranger? Like you want to be nice to someone so you smile but you both know it's awkward because you both don't like social interaction? It's just like that.

"Well, let's go in my office shall we?" The woman walked started walking which made us force ourselves to get up from our rectangular prism chair and follow her. Well, this is going to be a long day.

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