I HEAR YOU

X: SOFIA

“You’re Sofia! Of course you’re not crazy!,” Gabby exclaimed rather loudly while we were in the canteen.

I slapped my face with my notebook due to embarrassment. Gabby can get a little wild when we talk about my mother. She doesn’t really like her but at least she doesn’t hate her.

“Gabby, I’m not joking,” I mumbled against my notebook.

“Hey!,” she grabbed the notebook away from my face and looked at me. Her eyes are squinted and her lips pressed tightly in a line. “I just said you’re Sofia of course you’re not joking!,” she exclaimed again with her fists on her waist.

“Gabby,” I groaned.

“Yes that’s me,” she answered happily sitting across from me.

“I’m really wondering why I even bother ,” I sighed.

“You need me Fia!,” she yelled again and I groaned in embarrassment. My face flushed at the thought that other students may have been looking at our table. Sometimes I feel like smacking her. “You need a little ray of sunshine like me,” she added. She was smiling at me and it brought me back to the first time we met.

“Do you know why you’re here?,” a man in a white coat sat across me. The pin on the left pocket of his coat says he’s Doctor Ralph C. Wyatt. I was wondering what his C was when a throat was cleared. I looked back at him. He looks too young to be working here. Did he graduate ahead of his class? I thought.

“Sofia,” he said and I blinked. Stunned that my mind kept wandering at unnecessary places.

“Is it okay if I call you Sofia?,” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered but my voice sounds foreign.

“Okay let’s try again,” he composed himself. “Do you know why you’re here Sofia?,” he asked again.

Do I? I wasn’t sure why I was here.
Yes. I wanted to tell him but it would be like telling myself I’m really crazy.

No. I wanted to say but it would be like letting him tell me I’m here because I’m crazy.

I’m not sure. I wanted to finally say but it would sound like I wanted them to think for me.

“Sofia,” a soft voice called out to me. It then dawned on me that my parents were there. They were in chair across mine. I was too busy looking at the doctor to realize I wasn’t alone with him in this room. I turned to look at Dr. Wyatt again. I started to form a sentence in my head.

“I.....,” and that was all I could say.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?,” he asked.
“No,” I answered.

“I’m sorry that it has to be me but the rest of them are already having their Christmas break,” he smiled apologetically.

“Sfine,” I whispered. “Why aren’t you on your Christmas break?,” I asked. My curiosity had gotten the best of me.

He smiled, “I was about to but I think you being here is the best gift for me this Christmas.” He put his pen aside and intertwined his fingers. He looked more welcoming now than when he was ready jotting down anything he could get out of me.
I frowned remembering his answer.

“What do you mean?,” I asked him. I didn’t think consulting a psychologist could be a best gift. “Do you mean the fee?,” I added when I realized he could be happy because he would receive more pay during holidays if he’s still working.

He laughed. He laughed so hard that he clutched the table. He cleared his throat and looked at me. “No,” he chuckled. “I heard you just woke up after being in a coma for three years,” he added.