I See You

Your Problems are Just as Real as Mine

"Danielle. Danielle Jackson," she stated, pulling out her driver's license and handing it to the attendant.

The attendant confirmed the ID and handed it back with a form.

Danielle took her license back and shoved it in her pocket. Tucking a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear, she glanced at the form. She picked up the pen and began filling out the form in dark blue ink.

The late summer sun seeped in through the cloudy windows of the room. Dust danced in the light and a fan lazily spun from the ceiling. She finished filling out the form and returned it to the attendant. The attendant looked it over and nodded. She gave her a badge and motioned for her to sit in the muted room.

Danielle returned a friendly smile to the attendant before taking a seat. The room was varnished only by a few dusty faux plants and a TV softly playing the evening news. The chairs were old and uncomfortable, and the floor was a musty carpet that needed to be washed.

"A try at comforting, but a far miss," Danielle mumbled. She picked up her sticker-badge and peeled it off the paper. She stuck it onto the outside of her army green denim jacket, right on top of her left pocket.

She looked around at the other people in the room. There were small groups of people here and there. There was an older couple on the other end of the room; the woman was dismal as she stared blankly into her hands and the man was just the same.

Must be hard, she thought, having a kid in a place like this.

She looked away and rolled up her sleeves. She reached into her green pocket and pulled out her phone.

16:12, Addy should have dinner done soon.

Addy was her college roommate. They used to have another, but she didn't live with them anymore.

"Danielle?" another attendant called.

She stood up and made eye contact with the man. He nodded and brought her through a door. She walked down the cold hallways. They passed a cork board stuffed with posters and pictures and she stopped to stare at it for just a moment before she tore her eyes away.

He led her through another door and then stopped.

"Number 4, ma'am," he said, holding the door for her.

Danielle nodded and stepped in.

Once inside, she spotted two other people having conversations. She made her way to the booth labeled "4" and sat down. In front of her was a large pane of glass and a red, old-school phone hanging on the wall.

A girl in orange appeared on the other side. Black hair cascaded down her back and a hardened expression stuck to her face. Danielle picked up the phone and the girl on the other side reluctantly followed.

"Dani."

"Jae."

The girl in orange stared blankly at the girl on the other side of the glass. Danielle squirmed under her gaze.

"I thought I told you never to visit me again," the girl in orange remarked.

"I know," Danielle whispered.

"Then why are you here," Jae asked coldly.

The brown-haired girl lowered her head and didn't answer.

"Why are you here?" she repeated, her words feeling like ice on Danielle's skin.

Danielle squeezed her eyes shut and mustered up the courage to talk back, "Because I'm your friend, Jae!"