"Last night, after I got home, I heard my parents talking. They said things about me being a screw-up. How I am such a failure. They don't know what to do with me anymore. I feel like there isn't a light, or sun for me anymore," Eli cried.
No one talked, neither of them made a sound.
"I've," he pause, "I've lost who I am. Everything I love is lost. No hope remains anymore. At least not for me. My heart is so broken. Yet, I'm only human, right? Why do people say that, and then just stop? Stop, having faith in you? Can you answer that?"
Eli looked at the woman; he had such a weary expression placed on his face. His skin was a sickened pale that chilled the room.
"Um, wow. I'm sure that they haven't given up on you," she began.
"Stop it. Okay. I know that those are just the things that they make you say from some book or shit. My life isn't a fucking toy to be put together and played with," Eli yelled.
As those words were said, there was a knock on the door. The glass wasn't easy to see out of. All that was visible was a light brown ball of curls. The therapist got up and answered the door. The knob turned so precisely. Whispers were exchanged, but Eli couldn't hear anything.
The woman nodded; she looked at Eli, and sighed.
"I have to go take a phone-call. I'll be right back. Just, don't touch anything!" she ordered.
Eli nodded and she left the room. He sat up and looked around the room. He twiddled his fingers, lay back, and kept looking around the room. There was a suspicious atmosphere, he didn't know why, but it just filled his back with chills.
His eyes stopped on the woman's Dr.'s degree. He looked back and forth, and got up. He slowly walked over to it. When he got it, it read, he saw her last name, Moreno.
He had always known it as Gadre'. Maybe, she got a divorce, or married?
"Alright, back to our session," the woman said as she closed the door.
Eli's head jerked back; he saw her face as he was caught.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Sorry, I just saw something and-"
"Don't touch my stuff next time, okay?" she ordered.
"Okay, Mrs. Moreno," Eli answered.
She looked at Eli, "It's Mrs. Gadre'."
The rest of therapy was long and awkward. They didn't talk. Not very much.
"Alright, Eli, that's it for today," she sighed.
Eli got up and, without a word, he left. He stomped through the hall and out the door. Once he stepped out, he bumped into someone.
All her books fell to the ground.
"I am so sorry," Eli replied as he bent over to pick up her books.
"Oh, no, really. It's fine, I wasn't looking," she smiled.
When they both straightened up, they exchanged looks. No one talked.
"W-well, I'm Eli," Eli stuttered.
"Imogen," she laughed. "Well, um, thank you. I'll see you around. My mom works ere. Mrs. Mo-," she stopped. " Gadre'."
Eli stopped. He didn't want to say, 'Oh well that's my therapist.'
"Oh, um, yeah. I've seen her. Very nice lady, really," Eli replied.
He walked away, but he could feel how red his face was this time. Imogen… Moreno? Gadre'? What should I call her next time? I don't know… Eli thought to himself.
He didn't go straight home, this time. Eli went to the ally. He pulled out his book and began to write.
This is way too much now. Therapy was long… and awkward. At least I met… Imogen. Her hair was tied into two messy tails, and she had a long shirt with leggings on. Her boots were laced to the knees. Maybe, I will see her again. Maybe, we can start something. But what if the therapist tells her I'm a patient. I'm a freak. A lonely, crazy, psycho. How will she react then? I know, she'll hate me… just like Clare.