Philips (Sequel to De Santa)

Chapter Twenty Four

"How long have you been feeling this way?" Dr. Friedlander, or Dr. F, as I referred him to, asked.

"Depressed?" I asked.

"Depressed, suicidal, homicidal—"

"I'm not homicidal.'

"I'm just putting all the options out on the table. We're here to talk about you." I let out a frustrated sigh. I now remembered why I wanted to be psychologist rather than a goddamn therapist.

"I've been depressed since my mom was diagnosed, so a couple of years. I used to be a really happy person all the time before that."

"And the suicidal thoughts?"

"After...when everyone started dying."

"Who?"

"Everyone I cared about. My mom, my friends...and then when I got rejected from ULSA and my boyfriend cheated on me with some crab infested two-cent whore, I felt..."

"Pushed over the edge of the control of your own thoughts or actions?"

"I was gonna say 'like I was living an endless cycle that I wanted nothing to be a part of', but sure."

"And your only way out was to die?"

"It seemed like it at the time," I shrugged. "I don't even know how I got to that damn bridge, I was walking and then...poof, like magic, I was there and looking at the water below."

"Why didn't you jump?" Dr. F asked. "You said earlier in the session that you felt like you lost your will to live, so why didn't you jump?"

"Because even though I gave up, someone else refused to."

"Jim?" I gently nodded.

"He promised things would get better."

"And did they?"

"It's been twenty-four hours, not a year, so no."

"Hmm...tell me, Chels, may I call you Chels?"

"Uh..."

"So, tell me, is there anything in this world that brings you joy? Anything that can pull you out of your dark moments? I mean, other than your family. As Jim proved, they're definitely one of those things." I thought for a moment and realized that there was one thing that brought me joy. No matter how mad or upset I was, I'd always be happy with that one thing around me. "You're smiling, so I'm guessing yes?"

"There is one thing," I admitted.

"And that is?"

"This is all confidential, right?"

"Of course," Dr. F nodded. I let out a nervous sigh.

"Trevor."

"Trevor?"

"I used to live with him for a while."

"And what is he like?"

"Arrogant, rude, always seems angry...oddly smells of lunch meat."

"He sounds like the wrong crowd for you."

"He sounds like it, but when he and I are near each other, he's different."

"How?"

"He's funny, sweet, outgoing, he even smells like body wash and only a faint smell of lunch meat."

"Does he love you?"

"He said he does."

"But do you love him?" The room fell silent.