The Second Hour
By Tarrant
Sam was sitting in a chair, her shoes kicked off and legs pulled up when there was a knock at the door. She glanced up and waved Susan in.
Susan dropped her book bag on the floor by the door and moved across the room. She plopped down on the couch and glared at Sam. She was quiet for a little bit and then said. "How did you get him?"
Sam shook her head. "You know all you need to know about that for now. This is your hour and I think we need to keep it that way."
Susan rolled her eyes. "How long do we have to do this?"
"The judge said six months. You know, this can be a very long six months or not. It's up to you Susan. I think I can help you if you want it. If not, we end up staring at each other. Your choice."
Susan's voice dripped with sarcasms. "You think I'm just going to tell you my life story and then I can move on."
Sam shook her head. "No, I think we are going to talk about survival skills and growth and then when you are ready, how to move on."
"Taa, what would you know about survival skills?"
Sam's face softened. "Why don't you tell me about survival skills?"
Susan glared at Sam for a good two minutes and then said. "What makes you think that I know about survival skills?"
Sam chose her words carefully. "I think you know a lot about survival skills. I think you use them constantly to the point you are no longer aware of it."
"You think you know a lot. You don't know crap about me lady."
Sam sat back and sighed a little. Then she leaned over to her desk and picked up a folder. She settled back in the chair and opened the folder while looking at Susan.
"Susan Case, fifteen. At eight lost her mother to a drug overdose. Also at eight removed from her father's home for molestation. At ten moved out of foster home after being brought to the hospital by a neighbor with burns on her back. Three more foster homes over the next three years, until she disappeared. Finally located when she destroyed the house she was living in by setting the bed on fire with herself in it. Now a ward of the court in juvenile detention awaiting psychological treatment and evaluation." Sam shut the folder and ran her hand absently over the cover.
She tossed the file back on her desk and moved to stand up. She walked around the chair and finally sat on the corner of it with her back to Susan. "Your right Susan, all I know is what I have been told and also what I have already observed about you. I know that you are a very angry young woman, that doesn't trust me. But like it or not, you and I will be spending an hour a day, five days a week together for the next six months. I know about survival skills because I have leaned on them myself."
Sam paused for a moment then continued. "I could tell you stories about adults that just like you, were abused as children. Adults that grew up to hate, kill, torture. I can also tell you about adults that grew up to love, succeed, and care for others. Or even about the ones that didn't make it at all. Those are the ones that didn't learn to use survival skills, Susan. The difference in the first two is that those that turned their experiences into something they could use to help others, had help learning to love themselves first. That's what I want to help you do. That's why I am willing to be here to talk to you." Sam turned to look at Susan. "I want to help you. I want you to learn good use of survival skills. I don't think you really want to die, Susan."
Sam saw a hint of a tear appear on Susan's cheek before the girl wiped it away quickly. At some point during Sam's little speech, Susan had again curled up into the ball she had spent most of yesterday in.
Sam knew that Susan would need time to digest what she had said and so she moved over to the door and opened it wide. "I think we have worked all that we needed too today, Susan. It's okay if you want to leave early."
Susan practically bolted for the door. Racing out so quickly she forgot her book bag by the door.
"Susan!" Sam called softly. The young woman stopped but didn't turn around. Sam picked up the bag and set it down beside her.
Susan grabbed it up and took off quickly down the hall and around the corner.
Sam ran her fingers through her hair and turned back into her office. She sat down at her desk and pulled open the progress note file for Susan. She hadn't written much but then she had the feeling they were making strides that had yet to be recognized. Sam sighed and closed the file again. "Tomorrow is another day."