.Love -- They'll Never Know

~Esther's session with Dr. Browning.

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"Hello!" I chirped, a most delicate grin forming on my face. I sat down on the couch before me, back straight and chin held evenly as I stared at the dimwitted psychiatrist I was being forced to come to terms with. But I couldn't give up, so I did as I was so told.

"Hello, Esther," she greeted me, hands in her lap, pen in her hand. She reached over and grabbed a clipboard, scribbling something on it. I tensed as I observed her hand working over the paper. My smile lowered, my mouth tightening into a firm line. "If you want, you may call me Alice," she said politely to me. I nodded feeling the tiniest more comfortable.

"Okay, Alice."

I and this woman were in a very secluded unlit room, just the two of us. The only light formed for the sun shimmering through the pale glass, so familiar but distant to me. Kate had suggested obviously I see a doctor, and this is her idea of seeing one.

I was a little nervous. Of course I did have little intentions of letting my heart out to any stranger. But then, what could I possibly let out? That I come from somewhere other that Russia, that I portray something I'm not? That I come from Estonia?

The woman in front of me began to open her mouth in silent speech though said nothing at all to me. She was still glancing over the paper in her lap almost questioningly.

"So, where to start?" She nearly asked me. I was unsure if she was or not so I did not answer. She could have been just asking herself her own stupid question. Her eyes left the paper and looked into mine curiously, head tilted to the side.

I suddenly felt very uncomfortable, sweat almost pouring from my face. I shoved my legs closer together, arms pressed tightly at my side. My breath was quickening out of my control.

Soon though, her patience ran out. "Esther, I understand you are a very smart little girl," The doctor said to me. I smiled just a fraction of a bit and ducked my head. She bit her lip and looked back down over her paper.

"Learning comes to me," I say, her face lighting up as she hears my voice carry over to her. Her pudgy face so disgustingly cheerful, her hair puffed up around her head perfectly. But I've seen worse and have no time for fretting. So I replace my intentions with a grin to accompany her odd curiosity.

"That's good." Her voice is so sickly somber, I despise her. But the way she seems to almost care that I have things to say, makes me marvel her. Truly I have been away too long from planet Earth.

"And, you're from Russia," she says intelligently, leaning in closer to me. I can now clearly see the wrinkles under her eyelids, the wild hairs hidden with makeups on her face. Her smile is not the most evident thing.

"Yes," I nod, silently saying my words. Dr. Browning nods briskly back, her eyes lingering back to the paper on her lap.

"Do you speak much Russian?" she asks, more naturally curious than anything else I suppose. Not feeling as proud that I very well can as I feel protective of my own self, I speak to her.

"On tore kohtumine et, doktor." The words I say are not in Russian, but Estonian, not that I can't speak Russian but it really does not matter when she can't understand it anyway. "That means, 'It is nice to meet you, doctor', in Russian." I lie. I squint my eyes as if I'm concentrating really hard, though I'm fixed on basically nothing at all, my smile firm across my mouth.

"Oh," she says jotting something else down on her paper before placing her pen down on the oak wood coffee table between us. I watch her do this, following her eyes, a lump growing in the very back of my throat.

"Esther, could you tell me about your time here?"

"My time in America, or here?" I ask the doctor, her face very warmly set, searching deeply into mine as if she is looking for something quite impossible to find. Still, I remain tense on the verge of screaming, my heart clenching itself tightly, dangerously. I feel like a mouse tempted by the cheese amongst the metallic grimy spikes that sprawl every which way out of the fiery ground below my scorched feet. I can not lose this now.

"Here, with your new parents." I gulped naturally straightening my back as if on cue, the aching sensation in my brain, the numbing of my skull all coming down on me uncontrollably. I look awkwardly downward at the floor below me. My head spins though physically remains perfectly still in the very still air in the room.

My fingers stitch together twitching, my heart beating unevenly. Come on, it's just one little question. I try to get the words out but feel myself very slowly going on edge. Though, I yet to amaze myself; how calm I can appear to be.

"Well, it's okay I guess...," I say, shifting shyly in my seat, dress ruffling under me. Suddenly I notice how very hot the dress is making me, how it sticks to my arms. Immediately I take in a deep breath trying to cool down. I must not fail this.

No it was not a test, it was not even close. It was just a person wanting to know me for the millionth time. And no, not one knew who I was. And would none of them know who I was. If they really must know who I am, well they can just watch me and what I do and make up what they want to believe. Or what I do... They can examine how I live and still never really, honestly and fully figure out who I really am.

The anxiety was building inside of me, the very pit of my stomach churning in slow circles, and how something being so slow could be so painful.

The doctor eyed me speculatively. I didn't let eye contact take me away and instead stared sadly at the ground, stress oblivious on my face. "Is there any commutative issues?" She made circular beckoning motions with her hands. "Any problems getting along with any of the family members? Are you comfortable and everything?" I shrugged gently, my eyes saying what needed to be said even if they were aimed at the floorboards. Outside of the room I could hear the pacing and the murmuring.

Dr. Browning eyes me, leaning back in her seat. I sigh in a depressed manner before looking back up at her. "Well, I don't think Mommy likes to spend time with me. She doesn't seem to care that much...," I say.

"About what?"

"She just seems so distant," I explain maturely, keeping my pride to myself. You have nothing to be proud of, my low self-esteem reaches out to me but I desperately shove it off. No, I will make this right.

The sense inside of me is yelling out that I am not who I want to be and I never will be. All the makeup I go through, the gauze, the petite little dresses... All these things lying for me.

For example, if I truly were who I wanted to be, I would not need to spend an hour in the bathroom at night, stressing the gauze to fit perfectly around my body to hide my figure. I would not need to fumble with the lids on the bottles of makeup just to ensure I looked my finest either if it was for pale skin to look peachy or to prepare to look stunning for a man and get a descent reaction for the very first time in my life. I would not need to wear dresses all the time in public and get laughed at like I'm a clown. It seems no matter what I do, even if I'm in complete disguise, I always have reason to be laughed at.

No, maybe I'll never find the perfect family or the perfect man. But the point of it all is, I've come so far and haven't even attempted the second half of my desire.

"Distant?" Alice interrupts my negative thinking. My eyes pool with tears either fake for the psychiatrist or real I can't say, though I will not freak out here where I can be exposed. If you can not even keep collected for a therapist, you don't belong in society at all.

"It's just... I want her to love me too," I say adverting my eyes. "But, I don't think she feels that I love her and she pushes me aside," I explain to the doctor.

My back stiffens as I try to remain calm as she scribbled furthermore on her papers. I continue to stare at the ground though my long-time trained hearing can detect the sound easily. Sometimes when you really need to use your senses a lot or really must, they get a little better it seems.

"Pushes you aside?" Alice leans foreword now as if she is desperate to soak up information. Don't empty yourself now.

"Yes. I just want her to understand," I say as if I may begin to sob. My voice is whiny when I talk just to make it clear that I am attempting to be very upset with the situation.

Kate and I are very different people. She is so convinced that I am not who I propose to be. But it's true... She is so tied up with these thoughts that point to me as the abuser. You are one... She thinks I'm crazy, insane out to hurt someone. But you have... And now I must sit in front of this woman and am expected to tell her how I feel. You most certainly feel that you know you're pointless.

I thought this would all work out but that stupid, stupid nun had to ruin it all. I thought I may have found a haven and actually got to fit in like a puzzle piece. But now, it is like someone have poured water on me, and I must desperately bend to fit back in place if even ever possible. You've never even fit in the first place.

Now my only hope is that I can straighten this out on my own. Luckily John still has faith in me. He still believes I'm worth it...

"Understand what, Esther?" Alice asks mechanically. I sigh for the hundredth time today, deep inside wanting to scream and shout and tear the room apart with every essence of my mortal being. Just go ahead. It'll always be the same. Go back to Estonia in your cell where you belong.

"I want her to know that we can get along just fine even though she thinks a bit wrong of me sometimes. I want to be with her but she doesn't seem to want to connect with me." Dr. Browning tilts her head, shoulders gently rising. She looks me over for a while causing me to become sweaty and nervous. What if she knows too much now!? You idiot! You stupid idiot!

"So she doesn't like spending time with you? What about your dad and the other children? Do you get along with them okay?" She asks me. I nod brashly in contrast to the dreary mood.

"Yes. I get along with the rest of them just fine" There is little to be said, and I feel it right to say less than that needed. Dr. Browning acting as a leech, must get more information. She is like a physical doctor, desperate to find the exact source of a patient's stomach ache. But I'm knowledgable I'm not any regular patient. I never was.

I uncomfortably shift in my seat slightly, moving my back closer to the back of the couch, the sleeves on my outfit beginning to feel scratchy and my hair oily. The familiar oily tense of my hair starting to make the very hairs on my neck rise. Though, I am perfectly certain I just washed my hair, the feeling brings me back to different times. They're not so different. I feel the strong need to tighten my eyes at a close, but restrain from it.

"What about the children at school?" Great. She knows what you did. No, she doesn't know now does she? I feel myself gritting my semi-real teeth, the plastic digging up in my gums.

"Well, sometimes they make fun of me but I'm okay I guess," I say, my accent still holding on to my words, not that Ican speak too much different. Why would you want to speak different, you're too different to start with. And next, she's going to know everything you've done. The worry seeps into my brain and I naturally gulp. Alice seems to notice this. I curse myself for allowing her to see my actions.

"Do you like school?" She questions somberly. "Can you tell me your favorite subject?"

"School is fine. But I don't really have a favorite subject," I say shaking my head, a confused expression on my face. Don't look so stupid, you fool.

"Hmm." Alice looks to the side for a moment, thinking. She's debating on you.

I just really want to shout and cry and throw the biggest fit in all of history. Never would anyone dare mess with me, and then I could avoid all the questions and the remarks. But if I do this, do I really win...? How can I ever win, though? What if just happens again...? A sadness overcomes me.

I observe the movement of the clock, wondering when this nightmare will end. Though, when a whole new topic opens up, it seems it will never end. The pain in my head, swelling as I think this through.

"So, you're telling me that" -she deliberately points her ballpoint pen in her hand at me- "your mom is causing the problems here?"

"I just don't feel right with her..." ...look what you're starting. "It's hard to explain." I clasp my hands together, nails digging into the backs of my hands, the smell of blood lingering in my nose though there is not a scent as that in the air and no blood has been exposed

That thick lump in my throat begins to grown bigger and I find it hard to breathe as if I'm choking. I scan the room in panic. Please, please, I've worked so hard...

"Could I have some water?" I ask loudly, but politely.

She nods, a warm smile stretched across her face. She gets up and glides across the room. I pay no attention to where she goes, but instead focus on my fingers, moving them around to pass time and keep my mind from thinking things I shouldn't. It doesn't take long for her to come back, shoving a plastic cup half filled with water in my face. "Here."

Slowly, I pull the cup from her grasp and take a brief drink though I realize afterwards there is little water left when I'm done drinking; of course there had been little to begin with. I feel my hand begin to crush the little cup in my hand. In an attempt to stop myself, I ask to throw it away.

"Right over there," Dr. Browning says gesturing towards a waste bin by the door. I stand, legs stretching making me actually feel taller than I am as I walk to the trash can and back. Once I sit down again it seems as if I have walked a long journey.

"So, where were we?" You're not through with this.

The lump is still existent in my throat to my displeasure as I rub it absently. Dr. Browning does not seem to notice this and for that I am grateful.

"Oh, yes. Anyway," she begins looking up from the clip board and crossing her legs. "So you don't feel very close to your mom? Correct?" I nod fervently.

Deep breaths...

"Yes, that is it..."

Hold on...

My pulse begins to heighten, my head light. All of these symptoms of hysteria hitting me in a semi-mental way. I try to cast these away, trying to keep a grip on reality. Just a little longer. She doesn't know.

"Well... I believe we're finished, Esther." Alice gives me a very pleasured smile. I do my best to smile cheerfully back. Praise God.

I feel myself numb over, not necessarily relaxing, but not necessarily tensing. I blink a view times before I stand up.

Alice follows my example casually.

No, I didn't learn much of anything and did not see the point in the session. I hope now though Kate has gotten what she wants. If she wants to put me down, I will put her in her place as well. She will come right on down with me all the way.

I can not help the mischievous little smile that builds on my face. Out of my control, my naughty little thoughts carry on. You did it.

"Now, I'm going to go get your parents and you'll have a seat out there, okay?" Alice says. I soften my smile, disliking the situation but not saying so.

"Okay, Alice," I tell her as if everything is perfect. As if I'm really who I claim to be. As if this all could really mean something at all. As if what I'm working so hard to do, what I've dedicated myself to my whole life, is really all that worth it.

I cross my arms in front of me and walk beside Alice to the wooden door I see ahead of me. Although almost all of the feelings of guilt and fear have seemed to leave me, still the words linger in my mind.

I know what kind of person I am. I know who I am. And sometimes, I'm not who I want to be. But the point is, sometimes you have to work a little past what is noticeable to be noticed. But too bad for them they just are too stupid to understand. All of them are. And as if the paranoia has always been part of me, it returns.

She doesn't know.

They don't know.

They'll never know.