Sofia Brown- A Short story

Chapter 1

It was 7PM in the clock placed on the table. Darkness had enveloped the San Francisco streets completely, from what could be observed through the window.

John Brown stood from his chair, nodded to the woman before him and walked out of the door. He looked at his wife seated outside in the waiting room, on a pink arm-less chair.

"Sofia?" John called out.

She looked at him, distracted from picking her nails. He signaled for her to go in and sat upon another chair beside her.

Sofia Brown was a slightly tall woman with a slim body. She had jet black hair and brown eyes that always seemed to have a tinge of redness to them, as if they were used to tears. Her pouting lips had lost some colour, thanks to the numerous cigarettes that she smoked per day and her bony cheeks made her look like a horse, to some degree. Sofia even limped a little because of a recent injury to her left leg. The crumpled, grey clothes that adorned her body gave everyone the impression that she didn't prefer taking care of herself much.

She entered the room her husband had just exited from and closed the door behind her. The room was small and squared. It was painted in pleasant green color with several frames hanging from the walls. They displayed motivational quotes or awareness about addiction and depression. She limped towards the table that contained a clock, books and notepads, beside which a couple of chairs had been placed. She sat on one of them and surveyed the woman on the other side of the table. Her therapist looked pristine and intelligent, with a touch of beauty on her face. She had brown hair, black eyes, a pale complexion and a face that had been slightly overdone with make-up. A plaque on the table read, 'Dr. Rachel Martinez, Addiction counselor.'

Dr. Rachel spoke up. "Hello, Mrs. Brown. Your husband told me so much about you."

Sofia chose not to reply to that. She was slightly distracted by the amount of anxiety she was facing and shook her leg restlessly. One of the notepads was open and displayed a drawing of a couple happily hugging each other. Sofia felt a bitter taste in her mouth on seeing the drawing and realized that she couldn't relate with it one bit.

"Your husband tells me," Dr. Rachel continued in her slightly girly voice, "that you have a...tendency, shall we say, to drink and smoke too much. So, I wish to help you with that. If you co-operate with me, we can sort this problem out in a jiffy and you'll be good as new within a month."

Sofia looked at her and found her staring confidently back. She avoided eye contact and turned her attention back to the notepad. Dr. Rachel seemed to be waiting for an answer. Sofia thought of what she could reply to her but her mind had gone completely blank. Her anxiety was acting up.

"Sofia?"

She looked at Dr. Rachel again, this time maintaining eye contact. "Hmm?"

"I wish to know when this problem started. What prompted you to start drinking excessively?"

"It was," Sofia began in her shivering, husky voice, "somewhere around 3 years ago. Right after I graduated from my college."

"Okay. May I know what happened, around that time? Did something happen in your life? Any traumatic event that ignited your desire to drink a lot?"

Sofia felt a wave of nausea. "I-I can't think of any."

"Are you sure?"

There was a brief pause. "Yes. I am sure."

"Can you describe your college life for me, Sofia? I would like to hear about it. Let me know about the events that happened in your tenure in college. Anything about your past relationships or anything of importance."

Sofia licked her lips and braced herself. "Ma'am, are you married?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

"Six years."

"What makes you so sure that your husband won't kill you in the middle of the night and take away all your money?"

Dr. Rachel's eyes narrowed. "Because, I trust him. I trust him more than I trust myself."

Sofia nodded. "Same way, I trust my husband John too, Ma'am. Just like it took you time to trust your husband, it took me 2 years to trust mine. It took me so much time. So, tell me, how am I supposed to trust and open up about my past to someone who I've only seen for the past two minutes?"

"Fair enough, Sofia. But, remember, I'm only trying to help you live a better life."

Sofia looked at her knees. "I'm beyond help."

Dr. Rachel leaned forward. "You don't have to trust me about your past, Sofia. But just answer some of my questions."

"Okay, Ma'am."

"What makes you drink? What pushes you to drink or smoke so much? What motivates you?"

Sofia stayed silent, thinking. She was still trying to fight off the wave of nausea.

"Is it peer pressure, Sofia? Do you have friends who are alcoholics?"

"I don't have anybody except my husband."

"Then, what pushes you?"

Sofia looked up. "That." She pointed at the drawing on the notepad.

Dr. Rachel looked at the drawing and back at Sofia, confused. She pursed her lips as she tried to understand what she was saying.

Sofia continued. "It is the happiness of others that I am unable to feel in my own life that prompts me to drink. Don't mistake me Ma'am, I am not jealous of others. But my life feels like stale bread and I am unable to stop myself from feeling numb or painful all the time. So, just for the sake of it, I drink and I smoke. They give me respite from the constant feeling of hell that I find myself in."

Dr. Rachel nodded with empathy before asking her next question. "Have you tried reducing the amount you drink or smoke? If you did, how did that make you feel?"

"I have tried, Ma'am. Given the problems I face due to this with John and at my job, I have tried to quit this several times." Sofia paused, took a deep breath and then continued. "Each time I stopped, it made me want to kill myself."

Dr. Rachel frowned. She opened a new notepad and made some notes before speaking again.

"Sofia, we have a long way to go. I'll start a file on you. Let's meet every week. Since you find it hard to open up, let's take it slow and steady. Meet me next week and we'll discuss this further."

Sofia nodded, stood up and hobbled towards the door. She found herself slightly trembling as she walked out of Dr. Rachel's office and boarded the car. Her husband adjusted his gentle blue shirt and looked at his pockmarked face in the side mirror before getting into the car. His blonde hair seemed slightly ruffled as he put on his seat belt and started the automobile.