Intimate Stranger (Editing)

Chapter 1: Prologue

Hey guys, I'm in the process of doing a tiny bit off editing in the beginning chapters so if some things don't match up, that's why. Thank you for reading and enjoy.

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Part One

June 18, 2010

Therapy

I sat in the waiting room of my brand new therapists office. This was my third visit and I was made to go against my will by my parents. I guess my reclusive behaviour was starting to scare them. I still didn't want to go, despite the fact that I knew it was for my own good and I needed to go so that I could get past my current mental state.

Which was traumatized, to say the least.

After my first two appointments, I hadn't said a word about what happened; barely a word at all. It was my reason for being at the therapist. And I didn't expect to say much that day either.

I stared at my lap, noting on my jeans,how they were worn at the knees. I hoped I didn't look sloppy. Eh, who am I kidding? I didn't care what any of the people in that waiting room thought of me. My wardrobe was nothing compared to the judgments I'd get after people knew what I'd been through. Hell, I was surprised the people in the waiting room didn't recognize me from TV, though it occurred 6 months ago now. On my birthday.

The air around me was stuffy and smelled like mints and cleaning solution. In front of me on the table, was a neatly stacked pile of magazines that looked like they hadn't been touched in a while. No wonder - they were Martha Stewart.

I coughed and the two other people in the room, a young boy who looked a few years older than myself and a middle aged woman, who didn't look related to the boy, eyeballed me, like they hadn't noticed me before, as if I had just appeared randomly. I rubbed my nervous, sweaty palms on the linen fabric of the chair I was currently occupying and the boy gave me a disgusted look. I was so tempted to stick my tongue out at him.

I looked up when I heard the receptionist on the phone. Her high-pitched, squeaky voice stunned my ears and made me cringe. She put the phone down after being on it for only a moment and looked in my direction. "Katelyn Morris," she started. I squirmed in my chair after hearing her say my name. She finished when she saw that she had my attention, "Dr. Pierce will see you now, Kate." She sent a fake, sympathetic smile in my direction and I was so enticed to tell her and her annoying voice to piss off.

I dragged myself off the chair, dismayed that it was my turn, just as the person previous to myself came out of the office, dabbing her face with a Kleenex. My doctor, Mrs. Sarah Pierce, lead her out, patting her shoulder comfortingly. "See you on your next appointment, Jen," she said, as Jen left the waiting room, going off into what was probably her depressing life. Can't be as depressing as mine, I thought. I sat back down awkwardly, unsure of whether or not I should go into the office yet.

Dr. Pierce was a tall, blonde haired, blue-eyed woman. She was fit and not fat. She was in her 30's and didn't look like she'd ever given birth. She was married, so if she didn't have kids, she either didn't want any or wasn't able to. Mrs. Sarah Pierce looked like the kind of woman who was in cheer leading in high school. One you wouldn't expect to ever end up as a Psychologist. Though, she was famous for being so good at what she does. I had yet to witness these so called spectacular therapy skills.