Skip The Memories

Charter One

G

"Do you feel like hurting yourself?"

"No."

"Any questions or concerns with your medication?"

"Nope."

"How is your mood?"

"Neutral."

"Have you been sleeping well?"

"Yup."

He frowned at me before taking his glasses off, putting them on the wood desk in front of him. He leaned back in his black leather wheely chair, placing his elbows on the arms as he stared at me thoughtfully before speaking, "I need more than one worded responses, Garrett,"

What did he want from me? I kept my gaze at his face, unknowing what to say, or weather or not I should reply at all.

He took a minute before speaking again, "how about this?" he leaned forward this time, putting his glasses back on, "we're strangers, yes? Why don't you tell me about yourself?"

You're joking, right? I'm not a science project.

When I still didn't say anything, he cleared his throat before grabbing a random pen, "do you have a favorite kind of music genre, or band, maybe?"

I guess I'll answer since it was an easy question. "Techno, metal, and alternative rock."

"That's great," he started scribbling something down behind a tray of stacked papers, out of my view, "do you feel relaxed when you listen to music?"

"Yes," I said honestly. Nothing is better than blocking people out.

"Do you play any instruments?" he looked at me from the top rims of his glasses.

I shook my head, "no."

"Hm," more scribbling, "do you like to sing?"

I hesitated at first, but then quickly realized there was no reason to not tell the truth, "yeah."

He surprised me with an actual smile, "do you like to write songs, poems?"

Shifting, I avoided his stare. I wasn't used to talking about the stuff I actually enjoy, it even felt like I was lying, "sort of."

"Would you like to share any?"

I shook my head, "no."

"Do you like sports?"

"I'm a quarterback," I said. But that didn't mean I liked being one.

"How's your home life?"

Whoa, buddy, a bit too far there. I clamped my mouth shut, and he finally stopped writing to look at me. He frowned, and I swear I heard him sigh.

Glancing at his watch, he stood up, "time is up. You get half a point for being so responsive today,"

Great. "Okay." I stood up along with him. I shook his hand, and he lead me to the door, opening it to see Chris, my assigned escort. He didn't exactly follow me everywhere, but he was sure to make me go to the classes I was supposed to.

"Ready, Garrett?" his gruff voice made me shrug.

"I suppose," I gave a final look at my guidance counselor before taking a step out of the door, hearing it shut behind me.

"Where we headed?" I asked, shoving my hands in my pockets.

"It's twelve-thirty," he answered as we circled around the abandoned corner, "time for lunch,"

"Ah, nothing better than stale food," I said more to myself. I could have sworn I saw a hint of a smile on the side of his face before he opened the big double doors to a scene that surprised both of us.