The Bus Ride

Chapter Sixteen

I slam the door to my bedroom as soon as I get home. It's been a week since my first day back, and things haven't gotten any better. I have a small mountain of homework to do, Alexandra and her friends still treat me like crap, and my friends avoid me because they don't know how to interact with me. Even my own parents don't want to be around me. I'm still plagued with nightmares every night, and even worse, our new mayor has made his first annoucement. It is now illegal to be out on the streets past 9 o'clock at night. Even if you aren't home, you still need to spend the night wherever you are. Unfortunately, that means the homeless people are screwed, and as the punishment for breaking any of the rules is death, well, let's just say there aren't many homeless people left in the town. They don't even bother to move the bodies, so when you are walking down the street you look into an alleyway and see a body slumped over. It doesn't bother me anymore, which is really disturbing, but many of the adults and children who weren't held hostage for a week get a little freaked out about it. In addition, every single person over the age of twelve had to register their name, age, gender, address, and phone number. Just another way to control us.

I'm sitting down at my desk, trying to get some of this homework done, when I hear my mother call me downstairs. I sigh and walk downstairs, irritated that she called me down. I practically live in my room now, just to avoid them. I walk into the living room and my parents are sitting side-by-side on the couch, looking concerned.
"Celia darling! Please have a seat." My mother says as she gestures to the chair. I warily sit down facing them. For a few awkward moments we stare at each other, and then my mother sighs.
"Celia honey, we don't really know how to say this, but we are concerned about you. I mean, you don't smile, we never see you, you barely eat, and judging by the circles under your eyes, you barely sleep too." She says in a rush, and I stare at her blankly.
"So, what does that have to do with anything? I'm completely fine." I say calmly, but on the inside I'm panicking. I really don't want my parents to get involved. I can handle this on my own.
"Celia, you are not fine. You are still a child, and as your parents, we have to do what is best for you. You cannot handle this by yourself, even though I know you think you can." She continues, and I glare at her.
"Are you going to handle this for me? Or are you going to hire someone else to do it for you, just like always?" I say, with unmistakable venom in my voice. My father looks at my mother and leans forward.
"Sweetheart, this is not about us. This is about you, and you getting better." He says quietly, and him and my mother exchange looks before he continues. "We have also been informed by the school that you have been skipping your required therapy sessions." I freeze. I have been skipping the sessions, because I really don't want to talk to a shrink.
"Honey, we want what is best for you. Therefore, the school and I have decided that perhaps it would be best that you see a physcologist, just to make sure that there isn't any permanent damage." My mother says, and I stare at her.
"So you guys think I'm crazy? I don't need to see a physcologist!" I cry, my voice rising higher.
"This has already been decided. No use giving us that look because it won't change anything." My mother replies sternly and I look out the window. For a few seconds it is silent, and the level of awkwardness that is in the room is ridiculous.
"Fine. Let me make a deal with you. I will attend the therapy sessions, but only if I don't have any group sessions, and I don't have to see a physcologist." I say, my head hanging in defeat. My parents grin, and they look at each other and nod. I get up to leave and go to the sanctuary of my room, when my mother's voice stops me.
"Oh, and darling, dinners ready."
"I'm not hungry."
"I'm don't care, you will eat with us."
"I'm told you I'm not hungry!" I shout and stomp up the stairs to my room, slamming the door.

The next day I'm standing in front of the counselors door nervously. I make a silent vow to myself, that I will not talk to her. Afterall, I said I would attend the therapy sessions, but I never said I would participate. I knock on the door and a voice from within tells me to come in. I open the door and step inside the room, to notice that it is covered with those stupid inspirational posters. Everything is happy, happy, happy. It makes me sick.
"Just a second dear! I just have to grab some papers! In the meantime, have a seat." A voice calls from the tiny office in the corner of the room. It is just as cheerful and happy as the rest of the room. I reluctantly sit in the beanbag chair, noticing with mild revulsion a stain on the side of it. I stay as far away as possible from the stain and almost laugh. I've seen people be beaten and killed, and even killed somebody myself, and I'm grossed out by a stain. Maybe I am crazy. The counselor appears from her office, hair a mess, and her outfit even worse. She looks like a grandma, but a really ugly grandma.
"So Celia is it? Welcome! I'm very happy to be able to spend the next little while with you!" She says enthusiastically, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. It is just an hour. I can get through an hour with this woman. "So, what do you want to talk about?" She continues, staring eagerly into my eyes. I look away and shrug.
"Oh dear me, looks like we have a tough nut to crack. So, how about you start by telling me about your experiences? I'd love to hear about them!" She adds, and I stare at her.
"Sorry, I don't feel comfortable talking to you about that." Her face falls and I fight the urge to laugh. Who knows, maybe this could be fun?

I leave her office an hour later, immensely pleased with myself. Whenever she would ask me a question, I shut her down so fast. She tried to play a game with me, but I kept looking at the clock so much she just gave up. She ended the session by saying that I was "welcome to visit another time" and that "we had made progress". I could have sworn I saw a bottle of alcohol sitting in a corner, so I'm sure she was probably drinking now. I go about the rest of my day without much incident. Alexandra was out sick, and for the most part her cronies wouldn't know what class to go to without her, let alone torture me, so it was a quiet day. This was actually the first slightly decent day in a long time, and for once, I actually leave with a smile on my face, and I keep smiling as I board the school bus to go home.

Yay! She finally got over her fear of the bus! I hope you guys had a good Halloween, and it's almost November, meaning I've almost been working on this book for two months! How time flies when you are having fun. If you enjoyed this chapter remember to vote and comment, I really appreciate it.
Cat