Fractured

Chapter 17

I didn't want to sound rude but I suppose she brought this upon herself; she knew enough about who I was not to expect me to be normal in comparison to probably her other sobbing patients. "Um, do you think we could maybe move the clock on the wall across from me and behind you?  No offense, I just don't want to keep turning my head that often to look up at it."

Her grin grew slightly as she looked down into her lap at the clipboard with papers on it and a pen.  "So you don't want to be here, huh?" She asked me, looking up at me with her piercing blue eyes after she stopped writing. 

"Correct-O."

"Do you mind telling me why not?"

I internally groaned.  I didn't want to explain shit to her.  But like I said: I'm an angel.  "I don't believe in psychology," I smirked, looking down.  "Plus, it's a waste of my time when I could be doing something else." Like at home, thinking about how great it is there and not here.

I saw her write something down on her clipboard and that got my attention a little.  Her eyebrows were smooth as were her lips... blank face as she wrote for just a moment before looking back up at me.  "Well, why don't we start with something easy?  Just tell me about yourself and whatever you are willing to discus with me."

My loving nature could only last for so long.  It was automatic when I answered.  "Well, I'm Albany and I'm a sex addict.  Always have been.  It's something I'm kind of proud of because it makes me look forward to my dream: of being a prostitute.  I mean, practice is the best way to master something.  I take it after my mother of course.  My dad was an astronaut and he is still up in the stars somewhere.  It's believed he was abducted by aliens, but you never know with something as complicated as Martians.  My past consists of swimming in the big sewage drains or tunnels - kind of a hobby of mine.  I always loved how it felt." 

When I stopped speaking, taking a break to make sure she took all of that BS in, I hid my smile at seeing her just stare at me. I enjoyed being sarcastic; it was a proud trait of mine.  She didn't think so though was my first thought.

However, I noticed it wasn't a stare of disgust but expectancy.  It made me nearly fidgety in my seat when I felt her eyes still on me, staring - but staring blankly at me for the longest time before she finally spoke in a calm voice.  "This is on your time.  Not mine.  You can continue to be uncooperative but it wont change anything; if we discus the real issues at hand with you then it might actually help us get somewhere," she suggested. 

Her deep words weren't getting to me, people.  I mean, I kind of felt bad because she was serious and I wasn't when I continued to speak.  Especially when my words were for my own amusement.  I openly sighed and looked up to her with 'honest' eyes and showed I was done fooling around.  But really, I was only just starting.

"Okay, you're right," I said in a lower voice, as if ashamed I tried and failed to hide my issues.  Showing her I was a little hesitant, I slowly asked her, "Do you think we could talk about this one issue I have...?" I asked, 'embarrassed' to bring it up.  On the inside, I was laughing at my idea.

She lightly smiled and was happy to see I was cooperating with her now.  She nodded and sat up straighter, getting her clipboard ready.  "Yes, of course."

"Well... you see, I have this problem with my stepfather," I started.  "I'm too embarrassed to discus this problem with him because he's one of the only people I enjoy being around so I don't want to hurt his feelings."

"What's your issue you don't want to approach him about?"

"I mean, it nothing serious.  It's just something that really bothers me because I hang around him so much.  He's like my only friend so the last thing I need from him is his odor," I said, keeping up my serious act as best as I could - with sighs, cringes, and pursing of my lips on the horrid subject of Luke's nonexistent hygiene problem.