First of all, hello. I'm back! It's been a very long while but I'm back! After college, married, and a having a kid of my own - I'm getting back into my writing! Please bear with me as I start updating again. I've only recently started writing again and I'm extremely rusting. Here's a chapter, I hope you enjoy. :)
My mind isn't what is use to be. My thoughts stop to think about Eurus' torturous noise at the moment of silence. I don't even remember what it's like to be sitting in silence. Just about every cry, scream, laughter, and destructive sound sets me off as well.
"How close would you say you and Sherlock are?" Dr. Van Dyke asked, starting our session.
She sat in her stereotypical chair with her pen and pad of paper. Her legs crossed, leaning to one side of the chair and a pen in her hand which she rested against her head. She seemed to be more interested in my brother than my mental health.
"Stefani?" She asked straightening herself in the chair in a more professional manner. "How close are you with your brother?"
Brother? What game is she playing here?
"According to the journal you gave me," She stood up and went to her desk, pulling it out from under a stack of papers, "You seem to spend a lot of time together." She flipped through the journal as she walked back to her seat. "'I am my brother's shadow. That's why I cut myself. Everyone expects me to be like him but no one seems to care about who I want to be.'" She quoted from my journal.
I traced my fingers over the scars on my wrist.
"How long has it been?"
"A few weeks before Christmas after last I guess." I looked at the bored black and white carpet.
"How long has it really been?" She called my bluff.
I looked her in the eye. "I did stop for a few months a little over a year ago." I grabbed my wrist. "But after… It's been 10 days."
"Can you tell me-"
"No." I immediately cut her off. "I'm still in that room, no matter if I'm awake or asleep. Those sounds are something you just… Don't forget."
"Tell me about your relationship with your brother then."
"How was it?" John asked as I entered the flat. He was the only one in the room with Rosamund rolling around on the floor.
"Pure torture." I force a grinned. "Where is he?"
"I don't know. Mycroft dragged him out of here. Been a couple hours now that I think about it." John walked into the kitchen.
I just stood in front of the doorway, watching Rosamund roll from her back to her stomach and to her back again, giggling as she did so. But her giggling turned into those torturous noises too quickly. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
"John, can you put a pot on?" I asked as he walked back into the living room.
"I just made one not too long ago. Should still be hot." John picked his daughter and took a glance at me. "Are you okay?"
"I think you know the answer to that question." I walked into the science lab of a kitchen to pour myself a cup of tea.
I sat on the window ledge watching the people walk by as I drank my tea. John had gone upstairs to put Rosamund down for a nap and I assume John took a nap himself. I turned on some classical music in hopes that I wouldn't go back to that room. But I always did. No matter what I did, my mind always found a way back.
"How was your session?"
I looked across the desk to see Sherlock sitting there on the laptop, typing.
"That bad?" He asked.
"She cared more about you than me." I looked back out the window.
"That's not entirely true." He stopped typing.
"How would you know, you weren't there."
"Stef-"
"I'm going to go for a walk." I left my teacup on the window ledge, grabbed my head phones and walked out the door.