I do not own the Characters...well maybe just Gary and Dr. Ash. Oh...I own the plot too! SM is just letting my play with her Characters, for a limited time only...lol!
Papyrophobia
Chapter 1
It had been my third week in therapy, since he left me alone in the woods; left me broken, forgotten and near dead. It had been six months, three days, seventeen hours, and fifty five minutes of pure agonizing hell; this is how much time has passed on without him.
Time had become enemy number one in my books; seconds passed like minutes, minutes passed by like hours, hours passed by like days, and days passed months. Every month that has passed—every month that will continue to pass by me—felt like years. They say—he said—that time heals all wounds. Looking back at all the time that has passed me by in dragging lulls and drowned out deafening silence; yes time was now my enemy—and one of my worst fears.
The time that I have been sitting here in my therapist's too cheery office for nearly an hour; I have been trying to convince myself that the three extremely inoffensive pieces of plain office paper didn't have any effect on me. The truth was, those three inoffensive pieces paper, were also one of my worst enemies; if it were not for the invention of paper, he still may have been here or maybe not.
After all I am nothing but human...right?
"Your hour is almost up Isabella," Dr. Ash said, reminding me in her usual, patient and gentle voice. Her voice reminded me of Esme's sweet motherly voice; it was pure torture to hear her talk. Even if I did only see her three times a week for a total of sixty minutes. "All you have to do is just touch it...just once...just one time." She encouraged me gently.
I wanted so badly to crumple up the pieces of paper and throw them away, to conker these simple tasks. But the weight of the world sat on each piece and silently mocked me in the worst way. Pristine and white, perfectly flat and cut to exact measurement of perfection; every piece of paper—no matter how big or how small, no matter what colour or size, hell even the type of paper—was wrapped in barbed wire with jagged edges waiting to cut my finger.
Every single piece of paper was waiting to cut open my skin, for that one little drop of blood.
The very same drop of blood that managed to ruin my whole life; with one little tug and rip of a very beautiful and deadly piece of wrapping paper...my life ended and the living hell of purgatory reared it's ugly head to pull me under the imaginary water and drown me. But to my intense disappointment, I found that even I could breathe when drowning.
"Maybe next time," Dr. Ash sighed, glancing at the wall clock on the bright orange south-east wall of her office. "Same time, next week?" She said rising from the plush chocolate leather armchair, she always sat in; I often wondered if she always sat in that particular chair for all of her patient-doctor sessions. I reminded myself to ask every time, I left her office, but by the time I saw her again...I would always forget to ask.
I didn't reply, as I retreated away, as fast as humanly possible from the three little pieces of paper. Stumbling down the corridor, ignoring all of the strange looks from the other people in the building; I very nearly did a face plant into the cement sidewalk, when I ran out the office building door and into the fresh air of freedom. It was luck, I guess, when I just barely caught myself on the newspaper box, bracing myself for that impact as well.
I never bothered hanging around down town Seattle, after my appointments with Dr. Ash; amazingly enough, I wanted nothing more than to get back to Forks, to start the whole process over again.