𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄

ᴇɪɢʜᴛᴇᴇɴ

As far as he knew ....

"What?" she asked, her voice heavy with boredom.

"Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I b-be?"

"Well," Sarah pointed her pencil at her tapping fingers, "For starters, the fact that you cannot sit still is indicating that you're not. If that's something you want to talk about—"

"I d-don't, okay lady?" Eden snapped, "I am un-uncomfortable. I don't w-want to be here, and I sure as hell don't w-want to talk to so-someone who thinks they can help because t-they have four years of college under their b-belt. I'm here against my w-will, so if you could just talk and get al-along with it so I can leave, I'd appreciate it. If not, t-then I'll gladly sit here and keep tap-tapping my fingers."

She scowled and leaned back into the couch, crossing her arms defensively across her chest. She did not care that the therapist's face turned a bright shade of red, and she definitely did not care when she cleared her throat and uncrossed her legs, just to cross them again. The only thing she cared about was the fact that with the drugs, she had less of a stutter – this allowed her to finally voice how she really felt, especially in moments like these.

She was done being the quiet girl.

"Right," Sarah finally spoke again, "Let's get back on topic then, shall we?"

"About t-time," Eden rolled her eyes.

"Why don't we start with your history?" she questioned, ignoring her attitude, "—you're such a young girl – only sixteen. I understand this is a relapse, so it wouldn't be a stretch to investigate the root of your problem, starting with your childhood."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes again, "I'm o-over that shit. What happened t-to me as a kid has nothing to d-do with my drug ad-addiction anymore. I get high because I-I want to get h-high."

Sarah did not seem happy with this type of answer.

Eden couldn't care less.

Sinking further into the hot cushions, she let her legs rest open in front of her, bent at the knee. One of her shoes was resting on the edge of the coffee table in front of her; the therapist told her not to do that, but what was she going to do about it? Tell her to stop until she was blue in the face?—hell, that would be amusing. In the end, she let her do as she pleased.

Just like right now. She nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders and gazed at her with such little care that the therapist again shifted. Well, she was also showcasing the void of feeling she felt, which she usually reserved for the last look her victims saw, but right now, it seemed fitting to use.

"If you believe that, then we should have no problem taking a trip down memory lane."

"This is a waste of time."

"It is to help you, Eden. All we want to do is help."

And I don't want it.

What don't you people get?

She let her eyes flicker to the clock; a frown furrowed its way across her facial features as she realized that sitting here talking took less than five minutes; that meant they were only ten minutes into their session right now.

Half of her didn't want her pride to sink upon giving into Sarah's wishes, but the majority of her didn't care anymore. She just wanted to talk about something – anything – to get the time to pass faster. The quicker she was out of here, the quicker she could get her next fix.

Besides, the past doesn't hurt her.

Not anymore.

"Where do y-you want me to s-start?" she relaxed her face, looking back at Sarah.