Anathema

thirteen - our brains are sick

Dr. Ann Rothlesberger's office was very green, but somehow still rather dull. Tyler's eyes darted around the room as he tried to look anywhere but her, but eventually, he just settled for staring at the rust colored rug on the floor. The squares and rectangles didn't line up, and that irritated him more than it probably should have.

"Hello, Tyler," the Dr. Rothlesberger said. Her voice was like gingerbread on Christmas. Tyler didn't like gingerbread.

"Hi," he said, still staring at the floor.

"I don't like her," Nico declared.

"Big surprise," Clancy muttered.

"Is it alright if we talk for a bit?" she asked.

"What if I say no?" Tyler said.

"Tyler," his mother scolded.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"No, it's alright." The strange woman across from him smiled and put her clipboard on the table. "If you don't want to talk, I'll talk to your parents until you're ready."

"Okay," he said.

"This is weird," Clancy mumbled, playing with a button on his shirt.

"This first appointment is mostly so I can get to know you," the therapist said. She began talking with his parents, but Tyler zoned out and counted the rectangles on the rug. There were forty six of them.

He felt like a goldfish in this room. He knew they were talking about him. He knew they were here because his "brain was sick", as his mother put it, but he felt like he was looking through the glass of a fish bowl. He was living in his own little world, and though he could see others tapping on the side and trying to talk to him, he couldn't hear them. It was rather peaceful, and he wasn't sure he wanted it to change.

The dark brown couch they were sitting on had two green decorative pillows, one on either side. Tyler shifted to grab one and hold it on his lap, and then felt all eyes glance at him. To his surprise, the therapist - "Call me Ann," she'd said - was just as quick to move on as his parents, maybe even quicker. He liked that. He didn't like when people who weren't talking to him had their eyes on him, watching him.

"About a month ago," his mother said, drawing his attention to their conversation, though he stayed staring at the ground. That was when he'd first met Josh.

"Has anything happened in your family that might have triggered this?" Ann asked. "Anything unusual or different from routine?"

"Basketball season started, and he's on the high school team, but he's been on it for almost three years now." His father looked at him, and this time, his eyes lingered.

Stop looking at me, he almost said.

"I can't think of anything else. Can you?" His father looked at his mother, and she shook his head. He looked back at Tyler. "How about you, bud?"

"I'm not your buddy," he mumbled.

"What was that?"

"I'm not ready," he corrected himself.

His mother sighed, though she tried to cover it up with a pathetic excuse for a cough. "You have to talk sometime," she said.

"It's alright if you don't want to talk just yet," Ann said, and Tyler resisted the urge to smirk at his parents. Maybe she wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Actually," he said, surprised to find his voice steady, "it's getting a little crowded in here. You know. With all six people." He glanced at his parents again, waiting for a negative response.

"What do you -" his mother started.

"I mean I want to talk to her alone," he said simply. "Without you."

"Without..." His parents exchanged a nervous glance, and then his mother cleared her throat. "Al-alright. I suppose we can wait in the lobby."

"Good," he said, nodding.

Again, they looked at each other as if they wanted to protest, but they said nothing as they rose from the couch and silently, reluctantly, left the room.

He watched the door close and heard the soft click of the latch, and then he let himself relax just a little. He saw his two friends do the same, but their shoulders were still tight with anxiety and Clancy was chewing on his thumbnail again.

"Are you ready to talk now?" Ann asked quietly. This time, her voice was like cider and warm honey, and he nodded.

"What are we going to talk about?"

"Anything you'd like."

"Anything?"

She smiled and nodded, and he looked up at the ceiling, thinking.

"Tell her about orange," Clancy whispered.

"First I have to tell her about you," he said, and then looked at Ann for a second before dropping his eyes back to the rug. "Can I call you Dr. Ann?" he asked.

"Sure," she said. He waited for the question why to come, but it never did, so he made a soft hmm sound and looked at his two friends for support.

"You're going to help me," he said to her, not quite like a question, but not a statement, either.

"I'll do my best," Dr. Ann said.

"So I can tell you about my friends and you won't think I'm a freak?"

"Of course not, Tyler." She smiled again, like she really meant it, but he was still skeptical. She could still be venomous underneath her soft silky smile.

"And you won't tell my parents anything I say?"

"Not without permission from you first," she assured.

He narrowed his eyes and looked right at her. "Promise?"

She met his eyes firmly. "Promise." Her smile was barely there now, and that made him feel trusted. She took him seriously.

Clancy nodded and sat cross-legged on the floor by Tyler's legs instead of standing in the tiny space between the corner of the room and the couch. Nico stayed where he was, glaring by the door, but Tyler had expected that much, so he ignored him.

"Good," he said. "Then I'm going to tell you whatever I feel like, because I've been holding it in for three years and it's driving me crazy."

Three years? He almost heard the question, but it never came.

"Is it alright if I take notes?" Dr. Ann asked.

"Yeah, I guess," he said, letting a bit of disappointment seep into his voice like a sponge.

"I won't if you don't want me to," she said.

"No, it's okay." Tyler fluffed the pillow a bit before hugging it to his chest and leaning his elbows on his knees. "There's two people in this room," he said.

"You and me?" Dr. Ann looked at him expectantly.

"No," he said, then hesitated. "Well, yes, but no."

"Can you explain?"

"Maybe. A little." He shifted his weight again and itched his nose, more because of a nervous habit than a need. "One's named Clancy. The other one..." He glanced at Nico and shivered slightly. His soulless stare seemed particularly threatening. "I can't tell you about him right now."

"Alright," she said, writing something on the clipboard.

"Are you going to ask why not?"

"Do you want me to?" She raised an eyebrow and looked up from the clipboard.

"No," he said. "You're just the first person who hasn't asked."

"So there are two people," she said. "Your friends, right?" She waited for his nod, and then she returned it. "There's one you can't tell me about, but the other is named Clancy. Can you tell me about him?"

Tyler looked at Clancy for permission, and after a minute, the imaginary boy nodded. "Yes, I can," Tyler said.