'And how does that make you feel?' Said my therapist for the fifth time in the 1 hour session.
'I dunno' I reply for the fifth time.
'Depression is not a joke Isabella. Get your hair out of your face and listen to me!' She snaps. I pull a strand of my curly, brown hair out of my face and look into the grey eyes of my therapist. Her name is Jen. She's a 50 year old widow living alone in south England, getting off by helping a bunch of teenagers out of their depression. She's nice.
'So, issy. How do you feel when you are alone?'
'I'm not alone' I say 'I have the voices in my head to keep my company.'
'What do they say?'
'All sorts of things.'
'Good or bad?'
'Bad'
'We're going to need more than just talking for this. Next session,' she rummages through a pile of papers on her incredibly messy desk 'Tuesday I believe, we will try something else to help you. Carry on with your diary, but can you note down what the voices say?'
'Sure. C'ya'
I stand from my white chair and the old floorboards creek. I look around the room at the piles of books about self help that don't help, and the quote posters tacked onto the pale green walls. I open the door to a smiling mother and she guides me down the stairs into the car.
'So how was it?' My over enthusiastic mother says.
'Okay I suppose.' I say
'Do you want chips for tea?' She asks
I nod and the old Nissan glides down the cobblestone street. We stop at the chippy. It's an old building, at least 100 years old. The bricks are crumbling and the sign has nearly completely fallen down. It used to say 'PADDLETON FISH AND CHIPS' but now it says 'PADLTO FSH N CIP' in gold lettering. Mum pulls in and takes my order. Cod nuggets and chips. Same old same old. She clambers out of the old car and into the restaurant. I watch her order the food and walk over to the other side to collect. I sensed nothing. From the moment I woke up to now, I had no knowledge that today wouldn't be the same as the other 7 days of the week. I thought it was normal. But no. It was the eyes first. They were so vibrant I could see them from a mile away. They were so transfixing, I almost ignored the rest of him. His Dark hair was short and covered half of one of his beautiful eyes. He was wearing an oversized zip up hoodie and a Sherlock T-shirt. Great. So he's super cute AND likes Sherlock? He was wearing baggy jeans and lace up nikes. I found myself smiling and I couldn't stop. He looked at me and smiled. I want sure whether he was smiling because he liked me, or because I was scaring him. I looked away. So did he. I looked back so I could see him one more time. I knew pretty much everyone in my town. I didn't know him. Me and my bestfriend Stacy went round to everyone when we first moved here, handing out cards and cakes to say hello. I don't remember seeing him. I would have remembered. I'm smiling again and soon enough, my mum is back in the car and were driving away again. I wonder if I'll see him again...
