its not LOVE. It's HORMONES

Chapter Eleven: The Indians and Pilgrims....and the Loners?

Favorite comment that gets a dedication is Ngwena. Right a funny or a long comment and you might just get a dedication.

Thanks Avery for the Editing. I tried my best to proof read it, so if there is any mistakes I apologize ahead of time.

Picture of Sareen on the side!

INTENSE CHAPTER! READ WITH CAUTION!

Chapter Eleven: The Indians and Pilgrims....and the Loners?

"Don't you have a family?" I said bluntly as I leaned back into the comfortable bed. Well it wasn't really a bed it was between a bed and a sofa. Regardless it felt like feathers sent from the heavens.

"No, I live alone." She commented as she pushed her reading glasses up to her nose. I twisted my head and studied her face. Damn she was old, and her plastic surgery wasn't really helping her either. I'm not trying to sound bitchy it's just I didn't like being here. I only come here when I have to.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Her brown eyes snap at me and they are filled with amusement.

"Isn't that my line?" She said laughing loudly.

"That would be pretty cliche even though this is therapy." I closed my eyes and let the word sink in.

Therapy.

I hated that word. I felt like it was for the weak. I always thought the word was for the people who were messed up mentally, and I hated that feeling. I hated feeling vulnerable. I hated being here. I only came here when I had to.

"Okay, so where should we start?" She asked me. Another reason I hated these sessions is because I felt awkward. I felt awkward pouring my feelings out.

"You have my file." I said pointing to the vanilla folder laying across her lap. She slowly closed the folder, and removed her glasses.

"Let's start with, why are you here? It's been over six months. You have missed countless therapy sessions." Yeah I know. My uncle yells at me every weekend for it.

"Well for one, it was summer, and I usually hibernate in summer, and two school started." She shook her head.

"But you came here the whole school year last year." She informed me. I know I did. I wasted every Saturday at this stupid place. I would come here every Saturday not because I had to. It's because I needed to.

"Because I made friends. The nightmares have stopped. Everything has stopped. I haven't thought about it except when I visit my mom or dad, but that's a given." I fidgeted with my hands not meeting her eyes.

"So your life is good. Why are you here then?" I hesitantly looked at her face, and I whisper.

"Because I'm happy."

"It isn't a crime to be happy." She said as she pushed from her desk and took the a seat to the chair in front of me.

"But it is." She looked at me before she sighed

"Everyone deserves to be happy. Even the worst of people." I closed my eyes, to stop the tears from running down my face.

"But I'm too happy. Everything is falling into place, and I'm waiting for it to go down hill." My therapist doesn't show any emotion. She doesn't show pity or sympathy.

This is one of the reasons I come to therapy because she doesn't show emotion. I don't need someone feeling sorry for me. I need someone who can just listen to me.

"Don't you think after what you have gone through that you deserve a break." I get frustrated and I jump out of the chair, and walk back and forth.