It's Not Easy (NaNoWriMo!)

I Dunno Know

I Dunno Know

I stood in front of the teen counselling office the next morning, fully aware that help was on the on the other side of the door.  My shoulders sagged as I came to the conclusion that I am to cowardly to knock on the door. I turned on my heels and walked halfway down the hallway, then stopped.  I really needed the help, I really needed someone to speak to. Maybe it will be easy.

I turned around and walked to the door again. Slowly, I raised my fist, then quickly dropped to my side again. No, it wasn’t going to be easy. I couldn’t even make it past the door. How could I possibly pour my heart and soul into the open hands of  a stranger, as if I had known this person my whole life? I couldn’t, it was impossible, implausible and unrealistic. People don’t just get better, it’s not like in movies. If I went in there the counsellor would just point me in the direction of someone with a degree to hand out drugs like candy. I didn’t want that, I wanted real help.

I stood like a statue, my fist balled at my sides and my teeth clenched. All I could do is go home, act like nothing ever happened and pray I could fix myself. I turned around slower this time, and stood each step carefully, as if something or someone was going to tap my shoulder and offer help. Instead, I heard a voice. I echoed through the hallway and sent shivers down my spine.

“I could see you,” it said. I had my back turned to the speaker, but couldn’t find the courage to turn around. “It’s okay, do you need someone to talk to?”

“I- I dunno know,” I managed to turn around and face the counsellor. She stood at the end of the hallway, her eyes staring into mine in a sympathetic manner.

“How about you come in and sit down,” she suggested. I nodded and walked down the empty hallway, listening to my own feet hit the floor. She opened the door to a open, brightly lit office and gestured to a chair across from a large, metal desk. I sat stiff  in the wooden chair and ground my teeth together, thinking how absolutely stupid I was for doing this. The women sat at the desk across from me and gave me a warm smile. My mind raced to where this one-hour with the counsellor would lead me. I wondered if she would just laugh and send me way, think I was just another attention seeking teen girl.

"What's your name?" the counsellor asked.

"Sam," I sputtered.

"Well Sam, you can call me Lindy.” Now, what do you have one your mind?"

"Do I have to pay for this?" I asked, suddenly concerned about money.

Lindy gave a low chuckle, "Walk-in minors are free, but if you decide to set up an appointment then yes you do have to pay."

"Oh," I sighed. I felt stupid and just wanted to go home; I had work in two hours and still needed a shower.

"What is it you wanted to talk about? If you came here you obviously needed to talk to someone."

I let out a breath I didn’t realize was being held. "It started when I was very little, at the age of four. My parents both passed in a car accident. After that, I could breath right, there was the consent sadness to me, but I dealt with it."

"Well, Sam, if you dealt with it, then why are you here?"

"Because, I never really dealt with it, I just pushed it away. Now it's back, not as worse, but I can feel it escalating."

Lindy leaned forward in her chair and put her elbows on her desk, "Have you told anyone else this?"

"My cousin, Blair, almost found out, but we got into a car accident. She lost the memory of what happened before the crash."