Tongue Tied

July 2018

The chair hurt my butt, the lights shone much too bright, a funny wooden smell burned my nostrils, and my therapist had the most perfect hair I'd ever seen. I hated it, every single second. Coming here was a huge mistake, I should've listened to my gut.

"So, Carlie." Doctor Russ brushed a strand of her gorgeous black hair behind her ear and fixed her fierce green eyes on me. "Obviously your accident has stirred up a lot. It's made you think about the past, although from what I understand, your memories aren't all there yet?"

Huh? Shock bolted through me the moment she finally broke the heavy silence. How could she know that when I hadn't even told her anything yet? Is she a witch? Can she see into my soul? I pulled my cardigan further across my chest, as ice-cold panic darted through me.

"This is what I picked up from what you gave me over the phone."

That took me aback leaving me exposed like I'd lay across the floor completely naked. I didn't give her much to go on when I spoke to her, but apparently, it was enough.

"Isn't it unethical to make assumptions like that?"

As I gave her a reaction, probably in exactly the way she planned, Doctor Russ broke out into a self-satisfied smile.

"Perhaps, but I've seen this many times before and that reaction is quite normal." She tapped her pen against her clipboard in a very irritating fashion. "And from the look on your face, it seems that's why you're here. We might as well use our time here to wisely, don't you think?"

I slumped back in my seat with a bit of a fuck it attitude. There was one thing she got right, I'd made it all the way here, it made sense to actually do something positive with the time.

"Yeah, maybe."

It wasn't much, but I gave her something.

"Right, I see. Is that something you'd care to expand on? Is there a particular time in your life you keep coming back to?"

I pursed my lips tightly together, resisting bringing up university. I guessed we'd get there eventually, but I didn't feel comfortable diving in instantly. It seemed I was as closed off as Mum suggested, the words stuck in my throat and wouldn't come out even if I wanted them to...which admittedly I didn't.

"So, you don't like talking then?" Doctor Russ nodded knowingly. "That's okay, not many people do. How are you at writing? Is that something you might prefer?"

"I don't know. I mean, maybe." I gave her a helpless shrug. "I'm quite good at writing, I suppose. I studied English at university and did pretty well at it."

"Ah." Her eyes widened with excitement as she locked onto my words. "And how long ago did you leave university?"

I cringed internally. Without even meaning to, I'd jumped right into the topic I wanted to avoid. I needed to answer this question in a way that dragged our focus to another area of my life entirely. My crappy existence now, for instance. Surely that would give her a wealth of stuff to lecture me about.

"Oh, ages ago, and to be honest I haven't managed to land a job that fulfils me. It's madness, I spent all that time doing my degree in the hopes that I'd end up happy and now..." I swallowed back hard as an accidental ball of emotion got stuck in my throat. That wasn't supposed to happen! "Well, now I do a job I hate."

"I see, and that's a disappointment to you." I replied with a half-hearted nod. "So, would you say your time at university was the best so far?"

"Yes." My mind went blank, I spoke without thinking. "I mean, yeah, I suppose so. But isn't it for everyone?" I could feel a heat travelling up my body. Any minute now it'd reach my face and reveal my utter embarrassment. "The parties and stuff?"