Summary: Looking at Kagome Higurashi, you'd never know that she carried a secret storm. Her therapist suddenly quits on her, and she must go to find someone else to help her. She struggles to keep her new therapist out of her life. She tells him the best of her is gone. Why won't he believe it? Kagome's POV.
"Talking"
"Sign Language"
Flashbacks
Here's another chapter for ya'll. Thanks so much for the reviews. You don't know how much it means to me.
I'm working on chapter 13, just so you all know. There are 15 or 16 chapters, so you all have to hurry. I'm going to finish typing the story before you're on chapter 9 at this rate!
Best of You
Chapter 3: Traded Off
I don't know if I should be happy or not. I guess it's another day of life that I should be thankful for. But, with things like they are now, I don't know how to be thankful for life. If anything, I think I'd rather be thankful for impending death. I'll die sometime, and that's comforting... I guess...
"You're going to live long, just so you can see the damange you've done! You've ruined your mother's life, Kagome! You're going to pay for it by living long! You'll live long and have things worse than she has them! That'll be your punishment for troubling her now!" He announced to the world. That was to be my punishment, but I didn't understand what I could have possibly done wrong.
Maybe living long isn't as good as some people chalk it up to be...
- - -
Well, anniversaries are bound to go wrong in every way possible. You've heard about it through the jokes. The man always forgets, or whatever plan the two have goes terribly wrong and makes them both miserable.
It's only five in the morning and I'm already being a cynic. I can't help it, I guess. Things seem to be bound for the worst on anniversaries. Maybe that's all in my head. I could be over-exaggerating this. I check my messages, listening to my therapist's plea for me to come in today.
Does she have the urge to make a three-year-session celebration? I don't think so. Still, I have to go. Any therapy session that I don't attend is marked down on something the employees use. They're keeping record. When I get to a certain number of missed appointments, which they didn't tell me the number, then they'll strike.
So, I have to go. Lucky me! I get to be stuck with a retarded woman for the entire day!
I have better things to do. I would rather be here, in my office, working on paychecks than be with her. And, reminder, I find paychecks boring. You are doing the same thing the entire time! I don't know how other people get by with doing paychecks for their employees. It drives me up the damn walls.
I need to calm down. I'm about to have a spazz-attack right here. I take my flat soda and drink some. There, I had breakfast. Now no one downstairs can complain. As I head downstairs, I'm wondering what's going on. Usually Miroku is in here by now, looking over things to play for the night. He's not quiet when he's doing that, either.
So, I walk to the D.J stand to find him. He's there, but he has headphones on. I lean down in front of him, but he's still paying attention to the CDs in front of him and the music in his head. I lift one end of it then let it slap against his face. He jumps then looks at me, taking them off.
"Oh, hi Kagome. You scared me!" He says. I smile faintly then sit down in front of him. I look over some CDs, glancing once at him. He's confused about something.
"I don't have any ideas for types of songs tonight. It needs to be different than the normal. Something we hardly play." He says. I lean over him, getting a book that's behind his back. He's leaning against the shelfing that the collection is categlorized in, which makes it even harder.
"Didn't know you felt that way about me." He jokes. I get the book of CDs I'm looking for then set it in front of me.
"Oh, yes. Can you HEAR the passion in my voice?" I ask rudely. He chuckles then looks at what I've gotten.
"Relax, Kagome. Despite what you think, things will be fine today." He says.
"When does Sango come in?" I want to see how she's doing. Not by asknig, though. I listen to people and watch their body language. I can tell what subject bothers them by that alone.
"She'll be here in an hour." He says. I silently curse. That's the time I have to leave to my psyco therapy. I sigh then point to a few CDs. They're some 'stubborn-ass' CDs, which happen to be my favorite. Miroku smiles then nods.
"These will do great! How'd you know what to get?" He asks. I smile faintly, wondering the same thing.
"Dust on the cover of the CD book." I sign. He smiles then pulls his headphones on again. I stand up and unplug them. The song begins to play over the speakers right next to the stage, and I smile. I like this song a lot. Hopefully, he'll play it tonight.
Back off, I'll take you on
Headstrong, I'll take on anyone...
I don't know all the lyrics, but those two lines get to me. Listening to them makes me think that I can take anyone on. That I can overcome any obstacle that may ever get in my way...
"Kagome, you're pathetic! Your mother doesn't love you, she's pretending. You're a failure! You can't even talk right! You'll never accomplish anything when you're older! You're a loser!" He shouted. I shuttered in fear, trying to keep from crying. He would get more upset if there were tears...
Well, most days. Sometimes I don't have flashbacks and that thought stays in head long enough for me to act on it. Me acting on it includes me flipping someone off. That's as much of my opinion as I'll voice.
But these memories hold me back. Maybe that's why my friends requested that I do therapy. They're worried that these memories will consume me. Although I know they'll do the same thing, I tell them that the memories won't hurt me. I tell myself that the memories will only make me stronger...
If only I could be convincing enough to believe it. I know that I can't get stronger from these memories. They eat at me every time I remember his harshful words. And, just like then, they cut me open.
Maybe I do need therapy. I need a type of therapy that doesn't require talking. I don't want to tell anyone about it with my own voice. I'd rather tell a stuffed animal about it through telepathy... But, that usually results in me getting so upset than I rip the stuffed animal open. Perhaps there's no way for me to get this out in the right way.
So, I drown myself. I keep myself absorbed with work. I do paychecks for the employees, no matter how boring. I go to these therapy sessions that I can't stand. I do whatever it takes to push these memories back. Because, if I didn't, then they'd ruin me. I'd have a meltdown. It happened before.
I was in therapy, and I began to remeber everything. Usually the sessions are one hour long. This one was running on the third hour. I began to remember anything at once, and couldn't breathe. It felt like my lungs just stopped working. I was having so many problems, I passed out.
When I came to, my therapist said that I had a freak asthma attack. My bronchiole tubes started to swell suddenly, and no one knew why. No one knew why, except me. My physical body reacted to my mental thoughts.
So, I won't remind myself of everything at once. I'll attempt to keep a smile on. Even that one smile that I keep on is enough to help me fight off the memories and the pain that's tied with them.
So, if my pathetic and fake smile can do that... Is there a chance that someone else's smile can do more?
"No one will ever be able to help you! No one wants to help someone like you, Kagome! Look what you did! You ashamed your father so much, he died!" I cried at the mention of my father. I didn't know him, but everytime he came up in a conversation, I cried...
Or is that just my wishful thinking? It has to be wishful thinking. There's no way that I'll be lucky enough to find someone who can do that. No way that I'll be able to hold onto them long enough to get the help I'm dying for. No way that they'll remain interested in helping me throughout the process.
I walk to the therapist's office, glancing around. It's really early, so the streets are prety much empty. There are a few people going around that could be taken as gangsters. They're heading back, now. With the light comes cops, and that's what they don't want.
When I finally get there, it's freezing outside. I walk in hurriedly then up to her room. My arms are still cold from the morning's air, no matter how much I try to warm them up. I just realized... I forgot to brush my hair and teeth this morning. I'll have to do that when I get back. I mean, I don't look so bad right now.
I knock on the door then step in. My therapist is sitting in her chair, as if she's been waiting forever for me to get here. I sit on the small sofa, glancing around to make sure this is the right office. It is.
"Kagome, I have something to tell you." She says. Gee, what a surprise. She always has something to tell me. At least this time she warned me on when I should start blocking out her excessive talking.
"Kagome, I'm giving you to another therapist who can do better for you." She says. I look at her, my eyes widening in shock. As much as I hate this woman for being my therapist, I was comfortable with her. She never pushed me to talk any more than she had to. I stare at her in question, and she seems to know exactly what I want to know.
"I have spent three years with you and you still won't talk. You won't tell anyone what happened. It's too hard, so I'm going to get a different therapist for you. They'll be in this building. I'll call you tonight with the address and name. I'll even start you off with an appointment tomorrow morning." She says. I look down, the anger inside of me building at an alarming rate. Finally, I look back up at her.
"Bitch. Just because you don't want to push through a goal you were given, you hand me off. I despise you and your preppy breed of therapists." I turn and leave, not wanting anything else to do with her. I don't care if my arms are still cold, I'm going back to the club. I have things to plan for tonights party.
"Hey, Kagome... There's someone who's requesting a late ticket. I know we stopped selling the tickets for tonight's party, but he was desperate." Miroku asks me. I look at him, taking a note of his sly smirk. After a while, I nod my head.
"Give him the ticket for free." I tell Miroku. He smiles even more then turns around to his cell phone. This isn't even close to funny anymore. It's now eight in the morning and I'm freezing. I go to my floor then to my bathroom. I blush my teeth and hair, sighing. No matter what I do in the morning to 'prep up,' I'm never going to be acceptable...
"You're horrible, Kagome! You shouldn't be in this world! Your mother should have disowned you as soon as she could! You're a failure and you'll never be one of the other humans!" He screamed.
I shake my head, trying to calm down my nerves. I'm having the anniversary party for my club tonight, so I should help get ready. The less I help, the more is bound to go wrong.
I still can't believe my therapist quit on me. So much for staying by my side no matter what. Phht. They always lie, I don't know why I expected her to keep that one thing true. Wishful thinking. Have you noticed that I've been doing a lot of that recently? Perhaps it's just due to the extreme nerves that are rising.
The big night for my club. I don't think there's room to put another person in here. It's that filled up. I walk around, making sure that no one has any problems. I walk out on the dance floor, pausing briefly. I look towards Miroku, smiling. He looks like he's having fun up there. The music is great, too. This is one of the songs that he managed to get on his own. I look down at my clipboard, wondering if I should start to dance. It has been a while since I've been able to just dance and relax.
"You call that dancing? I don't think so, Kagome! That's the worst thing I've ever seen! The only way to dance is like this!" My ex yelled at me. I winced as he pulled my body against his. His hands grasped my hips so tight, I could feel them sinking into my skin. The blood began to trickle down my legs, scaring me.
Perhaps dancing isn't a good idea. I walk to the bar, watching Sango. She's nodding to one of the drunks, acting like she understands exactly what he means. She won't say anything, since it'd ruin the fun, but she's enjoying what's going on. My cell phone buzzes, reminding me that my therapist should be calling. Well, probably text messaging me instead. Not like I'm much for phone conversations.
I look down at my cell phone, reading the text message carefully.
I sent you an email with the information.
I look towards Sango, then towards the elevator. I go up to my room, sighing as the noise dies down. I had the place built so well that I won't be able to hear a sound from down there. Sometimes, I can, but only if I leave the door open a little bit. Otherwise, this place is soundproofed to the actions below.
I walk to my computer, turning it on. While it warms up and gets me online, I turn my cell phone off and leave it in the charger. I sit down at my computer, finding the one new email I have. Sure enough, it's from the therapist.
Kagome, I have your new therapist's information below. This one's a male, despite you wanting a girl. I tried to find a girl who thought they could handle you, but no one does. He'll have to do.
Don't panic, he's in the same building as I am. He wants to see you tomorrow at nine o'clock. Not nearly as early as my appointments, huh? Well, he's not a morning person. He may still be waking up when you get there...
2280 Star Time's Square (room 50)
He's on the ground floor, to your relief. Well, I guess I'll see you around, Kagome...
I print the email then turn the computer off once again. I take in a deep breath then slowly let it out. I'm going to make sure that Sango and Miroku are going to be okay for the night. I don't want to let myself sleep if they think they'll need help. I go back downstairs, making my way through the over-crowded dance floor. Sure enough, Sango is still there, pretending to understand the same drunk. I wave to her, and she comes over.
"Will you be okay for the night? I'm going to bed. If there are any emergencies, then you can come up and wake me up." I signal to her. She nods her head.
"I'll be fine for the night. The worst thing that's happening is not enough tape to record these converstations on." She comments. I smile then leave to go to bed.
Have you ever had that feeling that someone's following you? I'm having it right now. I turn around, and I can't see anything. Everyone around me is dancing. I take a few more steps forward and look over my shoulder. I'm just paranoid, that's all. I go back up to my room, slipping into the soft blankets with relief.
I'm still alive. Should I be happy or upset?
Next time on The Best of You...
Oh, my, gosh. How can some people get the degrees to even be theapists? This one is arrogant and a jerk to everyone around him. But... He's so nice to me, you'd almost think he had two personalities. The first would be the mean one who picks on everyone, the second would be the nice one who's obsessed with licorice...
Next chapter requires... I think I need 30 reviews before you can get the next chapter!
- Bipolar Tangerine