Savior (LH)

Chapter 2

•EDITED•

Daniella's POV:

Today's the day I have to go to my therapy session with Mr. Hamilton.

Mom got me up early, wanting me to get dressed nicely. She didn't like my idea of just wearing an old band tee and black skinny jeans; what I always wear, and pushed me back towards my clustered closet.

After rummaging through my closet for what felt like hours, I chose my fancy burgundy sweater, dark brown and white striped leggings, and dark brown high heeled combat boots.

For accessories - which my mother made me put on - I picked a bronze neckless with a big, and intentional, knot tied up on the end, two golden bracelets and another bracelet that had shiny gold spikes on it. Carrying a black purse with a gold chain used for the strap.

And for the birds nest that covers my head; I just simply styled it in pretty braid to the side the best I could, not really putting much effort into it since I've already spent forever putting on clothes.

"Let's go!" Mom called from the other side of my closed bedroom door, becoming impatient with my slow and sluggish pace.

"I'm coming." I groaned out, walking out past her and towards the car, making sure to slow my steps down just to get on her nerves even more.

"Don't make this so hard, Dani." She huffed out in frustration, following me after shutting and locking the front door.

"It's not like I'm going to act happy about being forced into going to this thing." I scoffed, climbing in the passenger seat as she did the same but on the drivers side.

"Just try not to be so negative." She lightly rolled her eyes at me, her patients wearing thin just like I was hoping. If I was going to be in misery during this half day session, she'll be in misery before and after it.

"Yeah, sure." I laughed coldly, sending her a cold glare. "I'm totally going to be positive about someone telling me everything I do is a mistake and wrong. I'm thrilled to be stuck in a place where the main objective behind my appearance there is because the doctor, you, and this therapist want to brainwash me into believing I'm fine, that everything is fine."

She didn't make a sound in response to my words. She didn't even look my way. The only thing that changed was the frustrated and annoyed look she was once supporting turned into one of confusion and shock.

When we arrived to Mr. Hamilton's office, I reluctantly pulled myself out of the car and towards the entrance of the huge building, my legs numb and wobbly from sitting still in my mom's car for almost an hour.

"We're here for an appointment with Mr. Hamilton." My mother told the lady sitting behind the front desk, her voice gaining the attention of the sweet looking woman.

"Your name honey?" She smiled my way, making some of my aggravating nerves, somehow, mostly wash away. She's probably done this for so long that she knows just how to calm a person down quickly and easily.

"Daniella Morgan." I answered quietly, my voice coming out quiet and shy. I've never been good around strangers or people in general.

"There you are." She hummed once she found my name in the mist of the list pulled up on her computer screen. "He'll be out in a moment to get you, while you're waiting you can sit over there." She informed us, pointing towards the waiting room.

We did as told, taking a seat in the far corner of the room, silently waiting for my name to be called out. After a long ten minute wait, Mr. Hamilton walked into the small waiting area.

"Daniella Morgan!" He called out, looking down briefly, checking if he got my name right, before looking around for someone to stand up.

I didn't say anything as I stood up from my leather chair and walked over to him. Mom staying seated since she's not allowed back with us.

"How are you Ms. Morgan?" He asked me as we entered his medium sized office and got situated. I didn't reply right away. I just peered around the dark but somewhat comfortable and homey space.

"I'm good." I lied, my voice steady in a mono tone, showing I'm not in a very pleasant mood as I continued to study my surroundings.

"You don't sound very happy." His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His statement making me even more annoyed than I already was a few minutes ago.

"Because I'm not." I rolled my eyes, scoffing at his obviousness.

His eyebrows slowly returning back to normal, but his face was still covered with a look of worry and concern. "Why not? What's there to be upset about?"

"I don't want to be here." I spat, annoyance clearly present in my voice. "You know, I didn't sign up to come to this hell whole. I was forced into it by my doctor and my mother."

"You should be happy your getting help." He countered, but unlike any other person in a time like this, this guy didn't sound mad or upset or anything of that nature, not even offended by what I called this place.

"Why? What if I don't want help?" I narrowed my eyes at him angrily as I starting questioning him.

"You might not want it now, but I know for sure you'll be happy you got here when you did later on." He predicted, looking and acting pretty confident about what was said.

"How are you so sure?" I questioned, narrowing my eyes his way yet again. I haven't even known this man for an hour and I already have a strong hatred towards him.

"That's how everyone ends up after these sessions. You all start off being mad or upset, not wanting any part of this therapy, but when it's time to stop sessions, you're better, cured almost." He grinned, sounding used to people being rude and hateful when they first start these sessions with him.

"We'll see about that." I raised my eyebrows up and folded my arms over my chest challengingly, my eyes staying trained on him with a hard and cold stare.

"Yes we will." He laughed, a smirk somewhat etched across his face as he basically accepted my silent challenge before getting started with the rest of his questions he prepared for today.