In The Depths

Chapter 1: The Appointment

"From our conversation on the phone, I can tell that this Dr. Stahl is a very nice man Rayden!"

"All of his reviews online were glowing."

"This is for your benefit."

"You do want to get better...right?"

Rayden stood cornered in the hallway as her parents ambushed her with more assurances. Though she knew that they meant well, she couldn't help but feel slightly guilty about the whole matter. No matter how much they pleaded, she couldn't deny the fact that she did not want to go to the appointment they set up for her today, nor did she want to see this so-called renowned specialist. She didn't want to see anyone, skilled or not, because the truth was she didn't want help. But of course, Rayden knew that when it came to things like this she didn't have much of a choice. She simply forced a smile of approval, the corners of her lips trembling from the exertion. Satisfied with themselves, her parents backed away a few steps to let her go to her room. 

"Start getting ready. The appointment is at 5 and I don't want you to be late, dear," Rayden's mom called out, intending for her tone to be comforting but still coming off as condescending. 

"Yeah, being late would be the worst of my problems." 

Pausing in front of her bedroom door, Rayden rested her hand on the cold knob and looked back at her parent's worried faces. Sighing deeply, she tightened her grip on the freezing metal and opened the door.

"I'll get dressed right now."

After giving them that assurance of her own, she walked into her bedroom, shutting the door gently behind her. This should be fun, she sarcastically mused in her head. Despite her attempts to add humor to the situation, Rayden still felt completely hopeless. Her depression was at its worst and nothing seemed to be working; the medications her doctor prescribed only intensified her symptoms. Like her parents so eloquently put it, this was her last chance to get better, to save herself. 

"Just like taking off a band-aid...take a deep breath and get it over with," she muttered to herself while shuffling through the pile of clothes on her bed, "just like a band-aid."

After some searching, she decided against changing, opting instead to continue wearing her pajamas for the third day straight. 

"Who cares what I'm wearing anyway?"

She wished that she had someone to share her anxiety with, someone to tell her that everything was going to be alright. But instead, all she had was herself and her parents who never knew how to say the right things. That's life I guess, she thought, or at least that's my life. Taking one final look around her room, her eyes landed on her reflection in the wall mirror. Her sloppily made bun was littered with flyaways and the flakes she always got from going weeks without washing her hair. The skin around her forehead and nose shined from the unwashed grease. Seeming to create a cavity in her face, her deep under-eye bags further added a sense of gloom to her messy appearance. 

All Rayden could do was sigh. She sighed as she quickly turned her head away from the disturbing image of herself. She sighed as she stepped out of her room, back into the hostile air of the hallway. She sighed as she read her parent's thoughts as they looked at her. Pajamas again?  She sighed all the way out of the house and into the back of the car. Sighing all the way to Dr. Stahl's office, she wondered if this was all life had in store for her. Sighs and disappointments. Before she could let out her next exhalation, Rayden's attention was drawn to the strange aesthetics of the room. Compared to the dull exterior of the building, the color scheme was obnoxiously bright: yellow and blue stripped wallpaper, red sofas, purple throw rugs, and green tables. 

"It looks like a little kid decorated this place," Rayden joked, her laughter dying down to a slight giggle at the sight of her parent's disapproving glances. 

She idly gazed at her feet as she heard her parents speak to the meek secretary sitting behind a magenta desk. She noticed that the stretch of carpet she was standing on had an interlapping square pattern, so she made a game out of trying to step within all the squares without going back to a previous square. Entertaining herself like this for a few minutes, she realized that the drone of voices had ceased, and the room was quiet, save for the soft scuttling sounds her sneakers made against the floor. Looking up, her eyes met with the blank expressions of her parents and the very amused expression slowly taking over the secretary's face. 

"She'll fit in nicely around here," the secretary said, her smile intensifying at Rayden's visible embarrassment. 

"Yes, she will." 

The sound of this new voice in the room startled Rayden. She confusedly scanned her surroundings, trying to find where it came from.

"Over here." 

A tall man suddenly emerged from the corner of the room far behind the desk. 

"Have you just been standing there the whole time? If so, that's really weird."

"Rayden!" her mom scolded.

"No need to worry, Mrs. Willow. I heavily stress the importance of freedom of expression in my practice."

"Well, that's good, because I should also tell you that your office's color scheme is absolutely awful." 

The strange man didn't reply to her remark; instead, he briefly looked at her and let out a deep, genuine laugh.

"You're not the first person to tell me that, Ms. Willow."

"It's not Ms. Willow, it's Rayden," she sharply retorted. 

"As you wish...Rayden."

The way he lingered over the syllables of her name sent a cold shiver through Rayden's tense body. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something in the man's mannerisms made her uneasy. 

"How awfully rude of me to not properly introduce myself. My name is Dr. Stahl, and I will be your clinical psychologist." 

He offered her his hand, and she hesitantly took it, her muscles limp and helpless under his firm grip. 

"Mr. and Mrs. Willow, I will take it from here now. Today's session is only an introduction, so we should be done by 7."

Rayden's parents nodded in affirmation. 

"And you, Rayden, please follow me into the therapy room. That is where all of our sessions will take place."

Our sessions. She replayed the phrase in her head, each utterance only serving to increase her anxiety. Wondering if it was too late to go back, she looked back to her parents for comfort. They were gone. Afraid and unsure, Rayden turned back to face Dr. Stahl.

"Are you ready?"

"As much as I'll ever be." she responded, sighing as she struggled to get the sentence out.

"Follow me."

He led her into the dimly-lit doorway of the session room, its ominous quality increased by the adornment of strange patterns and inkblots on the wall.

"Please have a seat," he said, gesturing to a long sofa situated in the center of the room. 

Taking his place on a similar sofa facing Rayden, he shifted his round-framed glasses slightly forward on his sharp nose and brought out a clipboard and wooden pencil from a nearby desk. And for a long while afterwards, all he did was stare.