Light - Michael Clifford

It was dark, I remember everything always being dark. Everything always felt like a dream you know? like it wasn't real, like someday I was going to wake up and all this would be some twisted dream. However for people like me, there is no wake up call and there is no happy ending. I am destined to be unhappy, that's just the way it is I guess, the sooner I learn to accept it, the better.

"Miss Paylor?" I was dragged out of my thoughts when A woman dressed in all white called out my name, she was white herself, as pale as a snow flake, she had dark red hair and pale pink lips and her eyes were the deepest shade of blue.

I grabbed my bag that was sat beside me and walked into a small room, it had two chairs, both facing each other. There was a plant in the corner like in ever other psychiatric office I had been in. I sat down in front of the other chair and waited for someone to come in the room and try to invade my thoughts.

A woman entered the room, she was Middle Aged, maybe a bit younger, she had a floral dress on and her hair was in a messy fishtail plait, she had heels on and a long black cardigan. She looked a lot younger than my other therapists.

"miss paylor I presume?" she gave me a quick flash of a smile.

"yeah" I said with a straight face

"what's your first name?"

"isn't it in your little notepad?" I said sarcastically

"it is, but I want you to tell me"

I rolled my eyes "this is ridiculous"

"it's called opening up"

"it's called bullshit, alright?" She looked down at her lap and shook her head. I stood up and looked down at her "im leaving"

"no you're not"

"Look, I am 18 years old, the only reason I am here is because my mother can't handle my 'reckless behaviour' and threatened to kick me out, so don't tell me what I can and can't do!"

"you realise you just told me much more than you would have if you had just told me your name?" she said calmly

I looked at her, then looked back at the door and then sighed. "My name is Ellie, happy now?"

"very actually" she said with a smug smile

"You shouldn't be a therapist"

she gave me an odd look "and why is that?"

"You look too young, usually they are old and grumpy"

"seen a lot of therapists?"

"five" she looked at me surprised "they said they 'couldn't handle me', even though that is their job"

"well let's hope I'll be the last"

"yeah" I couldn't stop the small smile that crawled acroll my face.

After the session was over, I walked out of the room and out into the reception. I signed myself out and walked outside. It was freezing, I had a pair of black skinny jeans on with a plain red top and a leather jacket.

"you know, you really should wear something warmer in this weather" I turned around and saw a boy standing with his back and one foot against the wall with a cigarette in between his fingers. He was bleach blonde, had green eyes and crimson red lips, like me, he was also wearing black skinny jeans and vans but he had a flannel shirt on. I didn't appreciate him talking to me but there was no denying that he was good looking.

"says the one with no sleeves?" I looked him up and down with my arms folded across my chest.

"touché" he said, giving out a little laugh. "what's your name?"