Inappropriate usage of slurs, I do not condone or support this type of behavior and neither should you!
Sorry in advance for this. Love you all🥲
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(Six years ago)
~"Elijah I'd like for you to tell me how you're feeling on a scale from one to ten."
I looked ahead at the brunette woman in her knee length pencil skirt and white button down. She had bad taste in fashion for a woman only in her twenties
"...one." I mumbled my voice hoarse and quite frankly scratchy. That's what happens when you don't talk for almost three months
"Can you explain why you feel the way you do? One means you're really sad."
I hated how she talked to me as if I were one of her kids. As if I didn't have enough common sense to understand bigger words. She dumbs down her sentences like one would do for a two year old. I also hated how she completely disregards this cast on my arm and bruise under my eye
For a counselor she sure wasn't asking the right questions. Why was I here again?
I looked down at my lap my blonde hair falling down to block my vision. Picking at the string from my ripped jeans I really tried to understand why I'm here.
"Can I- I ask you s-something?" I stuttered out quietly my throat burning.
"Of course, that's what I'm here for."
"...you call me in here almost every day. I leave here at the same time only to go back and sit in some classroom with people who don't even want me here. You pretend to be blind to the cuts and bruises and broken bones...why? Why call me in here only to look at me?"
I honestly think they all get some weird happiness from seeing me like this. The lady leaned forward in her seat uncrossing her legs. She hooked a finger under my chin to make me look up at her.
"Elijah I call you to my office to keep you from getting into trouble like last time. Your grandmother thinks a few minutes away from everyone will help calm your mind. Keep you sane."
"There's nothing wrong with me." I whispered
"You are a very unstable child. You do things that harm yourself and others and when it's all said and done you blame others for your pain... you lied and told your teacher that your grandfather hits you."
Her thumb caressed my cheek lovingly and her voice was so soft like a mother would use to speak to her baby. Some days I fall for it, the loving touches and looks and small gestures of affection. Some days I crave it, no everyday I crave it. Some days I give in and let her fool me into believing I do this to myself because it seems it genuinely makes her happy that I acknowledge those lies and take them as my own reality
