Fantasy Vs Reality | The Tear

4: The Counselor

It took me a moment to take it in. ...No... art for a while?... Counselor?... I furled my eyebrows and stared at my parents. For a moment, there was silence. They were watching me to see my reaction. I chuckled a little. When they didn't change their expressions, I felt the blood drain slightly from my face.

"Wait, you're serious?" I raised an eyebrow ever so slightly.

They both nodded, smiling slightly if not painfully, as if they knew what they were doing was right for me. "We think that you've become just a bit obsessed with your art to the point of you having these nightmares." My dad said. My mother nodded eagerly.

I shook my head. This was too much, I was doing fine and the dreams weren't too terrible. After a moment, I realized there would be no way out of this. "Fine... but it is not obsession." I paused as they remained silent. I sighed aggressively. "If you think this is right for me..." I slumped down in my chair. "When is my first 'appointment'?" 

My dad adjusted the way he was sitting in his chair, my mom looked at my dad. Why are they acting so weird? I thought. I'm not insane or anything... I didn't want to think too deep in that. I admitted I wasn't completely 'normal', but who was anymore?

"Your first appointment is tomorrow at noon..." My mother finally said. "The counselor says he wants to get to know you as soon as possible to assess how dangerous the situation could be."

I threw up my arms. "Great!" I said sarcastically. "Now I've got someone who's going to hound over my shoulder at every move." I looked towards my room for a minute, tempted to bury my face in my pillow and wrap myself in blankets to cry. "It's not a dangerous situation or I would be dead." I said, glaring back at my parents. "I won't do art... for now."

Tomorrow was a weekend. That meant my dad would be home. I furled my eyebrows again, thinking about how the hell I would be able to draw without them knowing. Art was my life, I'd do anything to become a professional artist and animator. I was even making money from it!

I stood up, declaring the conversation was over and stomped into my room, closing the door loudly. I dared them to come it and give me a lecture about how to properly close the door.

I collapsed into my bed, ramming my face into my pillow. I closed my eyes as tears stung them and dampened my pillow. I just wanted to be left alone. But of course, my parents thought otherwise. I heard the door creak open and they entered my room. I felt one sit down on my bed while I cried silently into my pillow, I didn't dare move or let them know I'm crying. My mom pet my head softly. It must've been her to sit on my bed.

"We are just doing what we think is best for you Hava... you have to realize that..." There was a pause, no doubt my mom was looking towards my dad to make him come over and comfort me, because there was the sound of feet approached towards my bed. Then the sound of my dad's voice.

"We believe you'll be strong in all of this Hava, and you won't have to take too long to recover from all of this. We want you to be healthy again, and these dreams are not helping." 

Of course they'd bring my mental health status into light. They knew I suffered from anxiety and minor hallucinations, I have for years. But this... this felt like my parents took a step too far over my boundaries.

I felt my dad's hand place itself on my other shoulder, and I cried harder. My parents cared so much about me and it just made it harder to be mad at them. Despite this, I gave them the silent treatment for the rest of the night. And when they left closing the door behind me, I cried myself to sleep. Something I hadn't done in a long time. 

I opened my eyes to the same exact dream I had just the night before, but there was something slightly off about it. Everything was... clearer, as if something in front of my eyes were removed. I was staring at the ceiling from whatever unfamiliar bed I was lying in. I looked down, trying to lift up my head. My body... it wasn't human just like the other dreams, but this time I could see my body. It had fur. It was just what I feared, I was some sort of animal. I widened my eyes in surprise, attempting to sit up, I felt my body shake in it's attempt to move, but all I was able to do was make an audible groan. That terrified me the most because in all the dreams before, I wasn't able to make a sound... or hear anything. 

I heard a swoosh of a door somewhere in the room and a muffled voice. My vision was already fading away as I saw the blur of an orange red figure running towards me. I felt something touch my arm and I felt my body lurch.

I gasped and jerked myself upright. I was in my room, in my bed. I looked at my clock and it was 3:00 am. I was in a cold sweat. I sighed, unconsciously feeling my arms to make sure it wasn't fur, and feeling the place where the figure touched my arm. It was oddly warm. What... what was that? I thought. I knew I wasn't human but I didn't know I could make... noise...

I laid myself back down on my pillow, careful not to make a sound. As tired as I was, I quickly went back to sleep. 

The next day, the morning went by very quickly. By eleven, I was all ready to go to see my "counselor" about whatever he needed to talk to me about. I didn't bother trying to talk my parents out of taking me, because they seemed too set in their ways. Soon, I found myself in the car with my dad, on my way to the counselor's office.

Once we arrived, the butterflies hit me. We walked into a tiny office with an older woman behind a rather small desk. 

"Good afternoon." She said in a strangely sweet, but raspy voice. I got chills thinking about books I had read in the past about ladies who were always so sweet to your face, but the moment you look away they'll stab you in the back. She seemed like the perfect sort.

I stared at her with narrow eyes as my dad walked up to the desk to sign some papers. He handed her his card while I sat down in a chair. I heard the creepy lady say, "He'll see you in a moment dear." She was leaning around my dad to look at me through her large glasses. 

Gosh she gives me the creeps. I thought, trying to smile and nod at her politely. This whole place gives me the creeps.

Just like the creepy old lady had said, a tall man with jet black hair, glasses, and a white doctor's outfit, came into the room with an open book, something about space? He nodded at my dad, then turned to look at me over the rims of his glasses. "You must be Hava, pleasure to meet you. I hear you like to draw? I do a bit of that myself. Dean, Miss Hava, please follow me to the back." He turned on his heels, still reading his book to walk back down the hallway he came from.

I followed my dad, silently thanking whoever was listening in the heavens that I didn't go back there alone. We followed the counselor into a cramped, small room. I mean it was really cramped, because there was only enough room for a couch, a desk, and one lane of walking space. He sat down behind the desk while my dad and I sunk into an ugly, olive green, squishy couch. My dad and I looked at each other for a moment, and we both just sat there silently while the counselor finished reading the page he was on.

Then he looked up and stared me directly in the eyes. "Now," He said, interlocking his fingers together and placing them on his desk. "I'd like to get to know you and all Miss Hava, but I think we are on a bit of a time crunch here from what I've heard from your father. So please... tell me what you've been experiencing these past few months."