"Hello? Francene? Can you hear me?" I sit silently. Not wanting to talk. I can hear you. I'm just not listening. "Francene?" The therapist retorts as she leans forward hoping to grasp my attention. I don't even bother to look at her.
"I can hear you." I answer, my throat feels swollen and my lips dry. It's quiet now, the only sound consisting of the clock's mocking tick-tock. "I really don't think this is necessary." I argue, she rests her arms on the sides of her chair.
"Why do you say that?" She questions. Her right hand moves immediantly to her notepad to scribble down my response.
"There's nothing wrong with me." I pause to glance at her, "I'm fine."
"I feel that you're supressing your emotions." She continues to write in her notepad "That is not healthy."
"Does it look like I care at the moment, what's healthy?" I hiss. This is complete rubish. Why must I be punished? I've done nothing wrong.
"I know you may be going through some difficult times. And I want you to know that you're not alone, I understand-"
"You understand? So you're telling me that you watched both of your parents die? So you're telling me that you know what it feels like? To stand by, stuck as you have to watch the light drain from someone's eyes? Don't you dare for one moment act like you know what this feels like." I interrupt.
"No I'm not saying I understand your exact situation. What I'm trying to imply is that I know what it's like to lose a loved one." She explains. Her eyes dart to the floor for a moment before returning to mine. My attention goes back to the clock. Only one more minute of this.
"Well it seems that my sentence in here has just ended so I'll be leaving now." I state before getting up from my seat and exiting the room. How stupid. I can't believe Aunt Sherry would make me go to that. There's absolutely nothing wrong with me. I'm not ill. Doesn't she get it? I just want to alone.
Author Notes: A bit of a random story. Okay I edited a bit so I'm hoping it is better this time around.