Trouble has the strangest colored eyes I've ever seen; thick black rings around the irises with a warm golden amber color in the center. When they settled on me she smirked, cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth, "Little boy, is your mum almost done?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Excuse me?" What the hell is that supposed to mean?
Trouble's hands started waving through the air as she signed in sign language her question, speaking slowly each word, "Is your mum almost done in there? I have shit to do."
Before I could manage a smartass comeback, or at least a witty comment to wipe the smugness off of her face, Dr. Joyce's office door opened and a woman walked out wiping the corners of her eyes with a tissue. Trouble and I groaned, obviously neither of us want to be here talking about our feelings.
"Micha, how many times do I have to tell you no smoking?" Dr. Joyce scolded.
"This is the first time you've told me," Trouble said. "Oh wait, which of my many personalities did you tell? I will have a word with them tonight, and I assure you they will be seriously reprimanded for not passing along the memo. I bet they didn't put cover letters on their TPS reports either."
An Office Space quote, that's hot. But by god, she is crazy. I guess she looks the part, Neo-Nazi tank girl type lunatic.
"Enough Micha," Dr. Joyce said waving her towards the door.
"This is my appointment time, it is Saturday correct?" I asked looking at my watch.
Dr. Joyce forced a smile, "Yes it is. Come in Korin, we are going to try something new today."
This I did not like. My dad pays good money for these ridiculous sessions and now she is making it a group thing? This is completely unprofessional.
"Aye, I won't bite." Trouble smirked as she passed me, "Much," she said over her shoulder putting her cigarette out on the front cover of one of Dr. Joyce's book, burning a circle in the forehead of Dr. Joyce's picture on the dust jacket.
"Damn it," the good doctor grumbled under her breath trying to stop the cover from completely burning away. "How many is that now?" she asked the girl making herself comfortable in her office.
"Twenty-four," Trouble amusingly informed her. "Look at it this way doc, I am helping you inflate your book sales."
She is seriously crazy.
"I want a discount on this one," Trouble complained, "The cover is all jacked up."
Okay, that one made me laugh. As crazy as this girl is, she is very amusing in a strictly what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you sort of way.
After we were seated opposite of each other and Dr. Joyce took a seat in the front of us. "So I was thinking that we'd try a group session-"
"Group?" Trouble asked disgusted, "This is a ménage a trios!" There was a look of terror on her face but it was fake, she is a very good actress. "Seriously," she leaned back and the cool composure was back, "You're not my type at all."
"Good, you aren't my type either," I sneered.
Trouble smiled at me, "I almost forgot you were here but I was referring to the good doctor. I don't like blonds. You on the other hand are very do-able. I have a midget fetish," I glared at her so she continued. "Would you like to help me reenact one of my Wizard of Oz fantasies? I'm melting, I'm melting!" she cried sliding out of her chair in a dramatic fashion and withered on the floor.
"Jesus Micha, can't you give it a rest for one minute?" Dr. Joyce groaned.
I've never seen the good doctor frustrated before. I should take notes, that way I can make my sessions more amusing like this one.