Her Story

Chapter Six: Therapy Visit

Her Story

Chapter Six: Therapy Visit

                               

    January 30th, 2014

    I could literally hear the wall clock’s hands ticking and turning as the room was so silent.

    He was staring at me, as I was him. His dark brown eyes lit up in amusement as he quirked an eyebrow. I held in my sigh as I was beginning to get annoyed.

    I leaned forward, putting my elbows on my knees and dropping my head a bit, still looking at him, however. His lips tilted up.

    “Yah know, I can do this all day.” He smirked. I nodded.

    “So can I, but fortunately for you… we don’t have all day, so now you won’t have to suffer from losing to me.” I shrugged my shoulders a bit, leaning back afterwards. He sighed.

    “Can we just get on with it? Your parents pay by the minute, and… if you don’t speak.. I’m not going to charge them and then they’re going to wonder why. And when I tell them why, they won’t be too happy. Will they?” he smirked as he saw my own smirk fall. This time, I was the one to sigh as I crossed my arms over my chest.

    “Fine.” I gave in. He smiled triumphantly.

    “Fantastic. Now where were we?” he asked rhetorically as he raised one of those perfect eyebrows. I glowered.

    “Okay, Ella. Will you, please, tell me about your birthday, back on September thirtieth and the things that when down?” he asked, his pen scratching on his note pad as he stared down at it. His eyes flashed to mine and kept my gaze.

    “This is a safe room, Ella.” He murmured. I looked down and fidgeted in my seat, tucking my legs under me. I was on that big couch which I found completely and utterly uncomfortable on and sort of… exposed.

    Looking back up at him, I started off slowly, sort of… stalling, “As you know, it was my seventeenth birthday.” He nodded, urging me to continue, “It was later in the afternoon and I had a few friends over. We were in the pool and I overheard my parents at the grill talking about, well, basically getting a divorce.” I told him. He turned back to his pad and began to write.

    “I, of course, freaked out and got out of the pool and started yelling at them. Which, I now realize was childish, but no one wants their parents to get divorced, no one. So, I told them I hated them, and I changed and ran off.” My throat grew tight and I grabbed my water bottle from the table in front of me. Quickly taking a swig, I put it back and looked up at Dr. Bowen.

    He hummed, turning his attention from the notepad, to me.

    “How did you feel about them talking about the divorce?” he asked, his brown eyes softening a bit.

    “Betrayed.” I answered honestly.  “And… I felt humiliated. I mean, my friend were over and they decided to talk about getting a divorce in front of them. I don’t want people knowing my family troubles, yah know?” he nodded at my rhetorical question. “So, like any other teenager in my situation, flipped out on them and took off. I needed to clear my head.” I looked down. “I regret ever leaving the house.” My eyes flashed from him to my nails to him and back to my nails as I began to pick at the red fingernail polish that coated all ten nails.

    “Where did you go after you stomped out of the house?” he sat forward in his seat, his notepad abandoned on the arm chair.

    “I-I walked down Brown Street. I must’ve paced that street three times when I realized it was basically dark.” I pushed my hand through my hair in frustration. Dr. Bowen nodded.