Dreams: A Collection Of Romance One-Shots

Session

Again this isn't romance sorry

A feeling slithered into my gut, restless and stubborn. I recognized this feeling all too well. The feeling that sat in your stomach until you gave it something to play. The feeling that made some fingers restless so that they drummed along or tapped on a wall creating a rhythm. Boredom.

In my case, the dreadful little monster ate away my patience, my rational thinking was digesting in it's stomach as I tried to look around for something to entertain myself. I started counting everything that had the color red and then counted the windows and tapping feet. Eventually, I found myself staring at the clock, watching the hands tick as time passed. Tick. Tick. Tick. Snapping me out of my trance, my mother grabbed my shoulder as the therapist entered the room. Little old Tracy sat down in her chair, clipboard in hand, and a taut grimace on her face. She was just as excited to be here as I was. "So how's your husband?" I asked spitefully and watched as both she and my mother shot glares at me. "Olivia!" My mother hissed and the therapist said in a very stoic tone, "He's fine." Tracey and her husband, or I should say ex-husband, divorced 2 weeks ago.

"Should I stay?" My mother offered and I subtly scooted half a centimeter away from her on the couch, guilt bubbling in my stomach. "No. The policy is that parents drop off their children and go spend some time for themselves. I can handle Olive." I fought against the urge to jump off the couch and run out of the room when Tracey addressed me as Olive. I also suppressed the urge to make a snarky comment about how they kept treating me like a child. A 15 year old is closer to adulthood than childhood. My mother took sighed, as if reassuring herself that everything would be okay and that Tracey could fix me, stood, and left without glancing back at me.

"So Olive, what's been going on?" Tracey started and I laid back against the couch. "I volunteered at a daycare," I said and Tracey's eyebrows furrowed. "What? Really?" Suddenly there was a spark of hope in her eyes, for a second it was as if i was making progress- until I squashed it. "Since when do I ever volunteer? Let alone go somewhere with children? No, I was home by myself while mom was out on dates with strangers. Also, don't fucking call me Olive," I snipped and Tracey scribbled something on her clipboard. "We don't use foul language in my office, Olivia and your mother has a different story."

I bit the inside of my cheek as frustration seeped into my head. "Uh huh, like what?" I asked, crossing my arms and watched as Tracey grabbed a piece of paper off her desk. "You had an outburst on Saturday, ran away from home, and she found you on Sunday at the Evergreen Cemetery."

"And why do you think I would be there?" I asked softly and Tracey looked up at me, a sadness welling up in her eyes. "Your father."

I ignored the twinge of pain in my lungs and stood. "What are you doing?" Tracey asked as I started towards the door. "The bathroom is around the corner, right?" Tracey beat me to the door and pointed at the couch. "Sit right now."

I shot a nasty glare at her before sitting. "I would appreciate it if you and mom would stop treating me like a six year old," I hissed and Tracey sat back down in her chair. "Alright, I'll stop doing that when you start acting like an adult. As for your mother, talk to her instead of starting fights."

You know how in some dry areas, a spark can start a fire? Like how a single glance can create a crush or a word can inflame jealousy. Well, Tracey started a wildfire in my stomach and one she wouldn't be putting out easily. "It's not my fault mom decides to drink herself away each night and go off at 1 to meet some stranger! It's not my fault she decides that I'm some broken toy that needs fixing! It's not my fault that dad is dead!"

The words not only stung her but, they also stung me, tightening the barbed wire that had wrapped itself around my heart.

My gaze fell to the floor, like I was some guilty dog who had gotten into the trash. I didn't flinch at the sudden movement of muffled footsteps but, I let out a gasp as Tracey wrapped her arms around me, clinging onto me as I fought to get her off of me until I gave in, crying on her shoulder. After a moment or two, I wiped my tears away and pulled away from her. I glanced at the time and back to her. "I think this session is over."