Floating In The Sky

Chapter 45

Three Years Later. . .

Present is our future and past
Each passing minute: Past
Each coming minute: Future
Theoretically, Present isn't present

"So Willow, what intrigued you to write this piece of work?"

I sighed. He knows the answer but still asks. No worries though. "I wrote this to make something out of what happened two years ago."

The sun has risen and is at the highest point in the sky, the rays of it flood into the room. The books on the shelves of polished wood. Papers on the desk, which he examine, keenly. Pens scattered over a sketchbook which is on the glass table infront of me. And I sit on a blue couch, balancing my notebook on my legs. A knock comes and a Flora comes in with a tray of teapot, biscuits and cake.

She comes in politely, with her blonde hair tied up in a pony tail. Her blue eyes on the tray. Carefully, she places it on the glass table beside the sketchbook. With, I think what is embarrassment she gathers the pens and sketchbook and walk out of the room.

"Tea, Willow? It soothes the soul." He says pouring in tea in a mug and handing me it. I take a sip of the hot, sweet liquid.

"Okay, so Willow. . ." He trails off as he takes up a paper and pen. "We have never talked about, what happened after," He paused and reads: "Your head starting paining and you could taste the rusty blood."

I sign once again. I never tell anyone about what happened after that. Or what it was. "Willow, you have been coming here for like a two and a half years now. To find out what has exactly happened to you -- what incidents caused you to have a brain seizure. It was trauma. Wasn't it?"

I nodded. Trauma. "You need to help yourself out. You have to tell me, what had you thought of."

"Bl--" The bell rings. Signing that the session is over.

"Willow, we will talk tomorrow. And I know we will find out what has happened to you." He smiles. I smile back and walk out of the house.

"Hey Willow!" Flora's familiar voice comes. I stop and turn back. She hugs me. "How did it go? My father didn't shout on you did he?"

"No, he is your father. He will be like you. Polite and sweet." She blushes and smiles.

"Did you find out what happened to you?" She asks. I shake my head. "You know you have to open up, it's not going to work like this."

"You know, you are fifteen. But have a mind of a fifty." She giggles.

"'Be good, my child', 'Have a great life, my child'," she mimics like an old lady. I laugh. "'You should get going, my child. That young man is probably waiting.'" She says pointing to the tree.

"'Take care of yourself, my sweet friend. Bye!'" I said hugging her.

"I sure will!" She walks inside the house. I make my way to the bare tree where the 'man' was sitting.

He stood up and smiled, and pulled me in a hug, lovingly. "Hey," he said and kisses me on my forhead. "How did it go?"

We started walking. His arm around my waist. "It went well. I was about to tell him what had happened but unfortunately the bell rang."