Pleaser

Alone

"How do you feel when you're alone?"

Alone. Alone was all he ever was, ever would be. Richie felt the same all the time. How would he know? Do you expect someone who has felt the same hurt ever since the incident to know the difference between alone and togetherness? Or do you expect the same someone to know the feeling of pure happiness? Whichever one it is, it's impossible. Not in the slightest bit would it be possible for Richie to feel a twinge of anything real at this point.

Despite his thoughts racing back and forth, the question rang in Richie's ears. His mouth became dry and his face felt hot. It felt like there were eyes everywhere, watching his every move, hearing his every breath. His eyebrows furrowed as his lips parted slightly, ready to reply with a simple answer. But he stopped himself, the words getting stuck in his throat like a barb wire fence was wrapped around his vocal cords. Why would he even think about lying to his own therapist? It's not like she didn't know everything else about his goddamned life.

Richie fidgeted in his seat, crossing one leg over the other, making the fabric of his tattered jeans rub together gently. As he tried to think of a good answer that didn't make him sound absolutely crazy, the black-haired teen stared at the tiled white floors with a distant look in his eyes. For some reason this question really caught him off guard. Ms. Shanon had never asked him something like that- never.

    "Uhm.." The sound of his slightly chapped lips parting nearly echoed in the small, silent room. "I feel the same." Richie gulped and looked up at the woman sat in front of him. His eyes felt a bit strained from staring up at the woman, causing him to blink a couple of times before he looked back down to the floor. Trying to distract himself from the pleading eyes gazing back at him, he traced the black lines surrounding the tiles with his own, ignoring his therapist.

Richie could hear the older woman click her tongue and scribble something down in her notes. He then heard her stand up, causing him to look up from the tiles. His eyes trailed after her as she made her way over to her desk and placed the white and brown notepad down. Great. She was upset with him.

"Richie, I can't help you if you don't talk to me," Ms. Shanon said sternly, her hazel eyes nearly looking into his soul. Her lips were formed into a thin line, her eyebrows pressed together in annoyance.

He was prepared to get fussed at any second now to be honest. He hadn't said anything meaningful to his therapist ever since he started her. Sad part is, it's been about a month of this ongoing and seemingly never ending process of trying to get Richie to talk instead of joke around. The poor woman tried so many things: coloring, asking a bunch of irrelevant questions, playing music for him, and she even gave him a diary to write in- to which, instead of writing in, he drew a very detailed penis inside.

Richie nodded and uncrossed his legs. He leaned over and rested his elbows on his knees, cupping his freckled cheeks with his hands. Obviously he didn't care at all about what she was saying- he really couldn't bring himself to care about anything at this point. He was honestly incapable of it. "I understand, Ms. Shanaynay," He replied, a goofy grin suddenly forming on his once distant face.

"Look, I just want to help you." Shanon sighed looked over to the giant window in her office. She then crossed her arms as she walked back over to Richie, her heels clicking on the ground. "Can you answer my question? Please?" She sat down next to him, the cushions on the leather couch squeaking as they rubbed together with her weight.

Richie leaned back into the couch and turned his head to look at Shanon. He shrugged, clapping his hands onto his thighs as he replied, "I feel the same as every other fuckin' kid does when they're alone- I feel alone." When the woman rolled her eyes, Richie retaliated, turning more towards her. "What? D'ya want me to give you a whole Shakespearean speech about how depressed I am or some shit?" To be honest, he had no idea what kind of answer she was expecting.