Therapy

03

SOTC ; Basket Case - Green Day

Next day-Saturday

That morning when I woke up, I was instantly bombarded by Danyelle, and mom. First Danyelle was on my case for the window being left open all night and it froze her.

Then mom was on my case about how she had made calls and got me a visit with my therapist that day.

So I definietly got no time to register that I would be getting therapy now. It could've been worse I guess.

Mom came into my room, "alright your appointment is at eleven, it's nine-thirteen, so we'll leave at ten-thirty. You better be ready."

I knew she was serious, I knew that if I wasn't ready, she'd drag me there in my pajamas.

So I listened to what she asked, because I couldn't be bothered to fight her.

I got a shower, drying off, and brushing my hair out. I put on simple black skinny jeans, a band tee, and some comfy ankle socks.

I trudged down the stairs. I grabbed a breakfast bar from the cabinet. I snacked on it, I never had much of an appetite anyways.

I walked to the living room, and softly sat on the couch. Benjie was sitting on the floor, drawing.

"Sweetie, please do something with your hair." Mom mumbled to me.

She was standing in the doorway, leaning on one side. Her burgundy hair in a tight bun on top of her head.

"My, please."

I lightly pulled on my hair, the blue was fading. Not really a surprise since it's been months since it was dyed.

"It's a mess, a curly mess." Mom commented.

"Will you just do something with your hair so she'll stop complaining? God, I have a hangover. Stop talking." Danyelle groaned.

I huffed, and got up from the couch. God it's my hair why can't I just leave it how I want it?

I trudged up the stairs, and walked into the bathroom. I brushed through my hair, it didn't help much. My hair was still a curly mess.

"15 minutes before we leave!" Mom called out.

I don't know what to do with my hair. Why is it such a big deal? She's the reason for this curly mess.

"Mornin' Myla," Michael said, kissing my forehead.

I smiled at him, trying my hardest to genuinely mean it. He smiled back at me, and I knew he knew I was trying to give him a real smile.

That's why I liked him most out of my oldest siblings, because he didn't expect much from me. He knew I tried my hardest.

"Hurry up! You have 10 minutes!" Mom's voice called.

I pulled at my hair.

"Here, I'll help you."

Michael stood behind me, and reached for the brush. He continued to mess with my hair, and when he was finished he shooed me off so he could use the bathroom.

I met mom at the front door, and slipped on my vans. We left the house, and mom drove to the appointment.
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When we arrived I started to get anxious. Mom talked to the receptionist, while I sat in the uncomfortable chair. She came back over and began to fill out a sheet.

I sat in that stupid chair for possibly an hour. It was very uncomfortable, and while I sat there I watched the clock on the wall.

Each time the bigger hand moved, my stomach grew uneasy. I wish I didn't agree.

"Myla Wilkerson?" The receptionist called.

I stood up and walked over to the open window. I glanced around in the little office space behind her. I diverted my attention back to her.

Her name tag read, 'Sarah.'

"-just go through the door, walk straight for a few steps, and her office will be the first door on the left."

I nodded, and followed her instructions.

I found myself having an internal debate on whether or not I should actually walk in. Eventually I festered up the nerve and walked in.

"Hello, you must be Myla. Sorry I'm a little unorganized," the woman spoke a little frantically.

When she realized I wasn't going to answer her, she gestured to the black, fluffy looking couch. "Please have a seat."

I sat down, noticing the teenage boy sat to my right. He was staring down at a book, looking at it very intently.

"Jaidon, get out." My 'counselor' spoke.

The boy, Jaidon, looked up.

"Wha?" He asked confusedly.

"I have a patient now, you have to get out now." She spoke.

I kind of found this amusing, it meant less time here.

Jaidon picked up his book, strolled past me, and shut the door behind himself.

"Sorry, my son is a little, uhm? I don't know, a little edgy." She chuckled to herself.

That wasn't funny.

She cleared her throat, "I'm sorry. I'm Miss Yamaro, but you can just call me Stephanie."

I nodded. I'm really uncomfortable in this position right now.

She looked at me expectantly.

"O-h, I'm, uhm.... Myla." I finished with a sigh.

"Nice to meet you Myla," she smiled, "I know this is your first time visiting, so, we'll start off with simple question."
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Hope you enjoyed the chapter :p