Black & White (Colorful Sequel | H.S)|✔️

18

Make sure you read the chapter before this. Also, there's a small A/N at the end of the chapter.

~

'Welcome to the Counselling and Wellness Center' the sign reads. Black letters on a chipped wooden background. How fitting.

I stop myself from groaning aloud. A lot of crazies come here and the last thing I need is to be classified with them.

I walk to the front desk and see a petite lady working there. She's cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder while her fingers type rapidly at the keyboard. I take the silent hint to wait. She points to the clipboard on the desk and I sign myself in before sitting down.

My eyes scan the waiting area. It's small but the chairs are lined up in a way for maximum space. The walls are a sickly green color. I wonder what made them choose that? It's hardly comforting. There are only two other people sitting on the matching chairs. There's a girl who's rapidly rocking back and forth, her knees drawn to her chest. There's also a guy in the corner just reading a book.

Oh, there's another normal person here, I think to myself.

As if he can hear my thoughts, he looks up from his book and hisses at me before looking back down like nothing happened.

Nevermind.

"Ms. Marsh?" The lady from the desk calls. I stand up and walk over to her, avoiding eye contact with the hissing boy. I think I like the rocking girl a little more. "Can I please see your student ID?"

I pull it out and slide it over. She does some more typing on her computer before sliding it back to me, along with a clipboard with a thick stack of papers. She explains that I need to fill it out and give it to the doctor when I'm called.

I sit down and work on the papers. The questions are pretty easy, information for their system. There's a whole section dedicated to family history, which makes my blood boil a little.

Why? Because it's clear as day that I'm not close with my mother. Up until college, I lived in a delusion that we had a tight-knit bond; she only couldn't hang out because of her job. But as I grew up and talked to others, I realized it wasn't normal for me to do half the things I did. I mean, she doesn't even know I have a soulmate for Christ's sake, let alone know who it is. We barely talk now and I saw her like twice when I went back for break. I honestly don't know shit about her and I can't even tell whose fault it is.

Then there's my dad. I know less about him. I didn't even know he lived in the same town. How am I supposed to know whether depression runs in the family? I don't even remember my paternal grandparents for fuck's sake.

"Marsh?" someone calls from the door. My head snaps up and I instinctively smile at the lady before following her through the door and into a hall. There are multiple doors on each side and I wonder what's going on behind the walls.

She leads me into the third door on the left. I step in and my eyes wander to the small room. It's exactly how I imagine a therapist's office. There are plants, a lot of them. In the middle of the room is a brown couch and a matching armchair diagonal to it. The walls are a shade of deep purple. There's a huge window across the couch so the patient has a view.

Yes, that'll be a good view as we sit in silence for an hour.

The lady turns to me and for the first time I take in her appearance. She's a short blond lady. Her hair is tied into a clean ponytail that sits at the base of her shirt collar. She's dressed in a fancy blouse and dress pants. She has one of those glasses that has a chain attached to the ends so you can wear it as a necklace.