Cold At My Core | Johnnie Guilbert

Ch 2: Second Glances

He was there, next week. Same time, same day.

I kept my head down, scrolling through my phone. 

Neither of us moved until my name was called, and his stare shifted. His eyes darted upwards, and I noticed they were blue. 

The corner of his lip curled up. The smallest of smiles. The tiniest of "hellos".

I just allowed myself to be ushered into the hallway once more, watching his gaze discreetly follow me. I couldn't see his eyes--not completely, no--but I knew he was watching.

And I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

___________

I sat through the silence, neither of us talking. She had asked about my homelife, and with a tiny sarcastic laugh, I told her there wasn't much to talk about.

I wanted to say something else, something along the lines of medication. 

But the longer I sat, the quicker the question faded into unimportance.

Medication was for crazies, right?

"Am I..."

She stopped typing, looking at me from over her frames. Her head was bowed a little, dark eyes reminding me of an owl. The sharp point of her jaw just reminded me of a hawk.

So which one is it?

Am I crazy or sane?

Isn't it all the same?

And here I was, rhyming again. In a therapist's office, of all places. I needed to start writing again, start crafting like I was possessed and the only excerism allowed was creation.

But I couldn't. I didn't trust my mind enough. Not right now, anyway.

Time slipped away, and I paused in the doorway, a question slamming at the walls of my mind.

So do I need medication?

I lingered in the doorway, the sound of her tapping continuing and making me feel guilty. Making me feel stupid for not asking, and making me feel foolish for waiting at all. But my lips zipped themselves and my feet carried me back into the waiting room.

The red-haired boy was gone.