babylon » h.s.

journal entry one

Journal Entry One:

Today, my doctor is forcing me to see my new therapist. I honestly would rather not, I told him I could handle the others on my own, but he didn't believe me, and now we're on our way to the office.

I've been off my pills for two days now. No one noticed that I stopped taking them. They make me tired and lower the voices to a constant whisper in my head.

I don't like it when they whisper. I like it when I can hear the advice spoken from the many crevices in my mind.

My last therapist wanted to make me keep a journal, but I never saw the point of it until now. It's great to voice your opinion to paper.

-H.

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"Harry?" A curly haired man in all black clothing, looked up from his leather bound notebook at the sound of his name being called.

A beautiful, brown skinned woman with black rimmed reading glasses perched upon her nose, smiled at him. "Come in."

He immediately abhorred her entire presence, and he expressed it with a deep scowl settling on his lips. Who the fuck is this? Who does she think she is?

Harry stood up, while clutching his book tightly to his chest as he made his way past the woman and into her office.

An overstuffed settee was located on the opposite of a large black chair, and he almost snorted because the previous therapist's office almost looked exactly the same. They're all the same, trying to get into your head.

Glancing around the desk, he saw no pictures of children or family members, and his eyebrows furrowed.

"Did you find what you're looking for, Harry?" His head snapped up, and his forest green eyes met with her own.

He scoffed and shook his head, before making a beeline for the couch. Once he was settled on it, the woman sat across from him in the chair.

"Hi, I'm Allison," she said to him, a bright smile on her face. "Is this your first time seeing someone?"

"No," he spat out quickly, clutching the book even tighter to his chest. "And since you have my file, I think you should've known that."

Harry hated the way she spoke, he hated the way she looked, he hated everything about Allison.

She jotted something down on her notepad, and Harry wondered what she could've been writing down only after the first few moments.

"How do you feel?" She asked, pen poised over the pad, ready to write down any abnormal behavior presented.

He grinned sardonically before saying, "I feel like taking that goddamn pen and stabbing it through your chest."

Allison's hand froze before she glanced up and let out a laugh. "You're quite the joker, aren't you?"

Harry chuckled along with her, making Allison feel at ease with him, almost too at ease. It was such a shame that she didn't see his clenched fists hidden behind the shadows of his thighs, or the demented glint in his eyes.

Harry was not joking, not even in the slightest.

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a/n: how was it?

-rachel.