All Eyes

All Eyes|| Chapter One

"Christopher Sawyer!" the over joyful woman at the front desk called my name and I stood up from my previous seat in the waiting room, watching the worried look one my grandmother's face.

This was my first time seeing this therapist.

After the death of my little sister occurred, my parents were always bickering and fighting with each other. I didn't really pay attention to much of what they said, or even what they were fighting about, very sure it's something not worth it.

Eventually they divorced, for the 'best' of all of us. I don't even think they were considering me in their plans. Mum went on with her job, being a successful lawyer afforded her enough money to live on her own with three kids, but she chose to stay unmarried, or that's what I thought. While my father got a girlfriend that couldn't be older than twenty two, which was pathetic.

As for me, after I drank my pain away, and snorted some lines in the bathroom of some guy that I don't know. I decided to go live with my gran. I already worked at some dinner. I was a waiter four days a week, while I delivered pizza for the rest of the week. I had already saved enough money, when I thought I was normal enough to attend 'college'. However one night I got furious and I don't even remember why, I wasted all that money on some drugs, tattoos and drinks....

And I don't regret it.

I squeezed my gran's bony hand reassuringly, managing a small smile her way.

I walked up to the room where I have to answer the same questions that I have been asked in numerous therapy sessions over again. Where I would have to give all the private information that I didn't feel like talking about.

To say I wasn't ready was an understatement.

My sister had died three weeks, two days and seven hours ago.

Her vision vivid in my brain, floating around my mind and destroying what remained of it.

"Don't be like this," Darcy laughed trying to snatch the controller out of my hand. I laughed myself, shaking my head and lifting my hand out of her reach while trying to beat up the monster in my video game, at the same time.

"You suck at that game anyway!" she would shout playfully, trying to make me leave the television so she could watch whatever she wanted, oh so desperately to watch.

"Darcy, I am warning you," I would try and say seriously, but she would look up at me from where she would lay her head on  my lap.

With her wide light brown eyes, her smile reaching her eyes.

Or so I thought.

I snapped out of my flashback, my hand flying up to the wooden door and knocking, frustratingly, might I add.

"Come in!" a female voice said from behind the door, making me twist the doorknob slowly in my pale, very cold hands.

Why did I decide to wear a short sleeved shirt in November? Probably trying to kill myself and die from the cold. My figure, awkwardly slipped in the room. My eyes immediately falling on a petite figure sitting on a nice wooden chair with black leather covering the armrests.

Dr. Samantha, smiled up at me, in that reassuring way that still made you feel nervous.

I don't know the reason behind my nervousness and my sudden need to throw what I had for lunch, which wasn't a lot.

I mean I have been to many, way many therapists before I came here.

Before and after Darcy's death.

Maybe I was nervous because I didn't feel like I have to do a progress for someone before. I mainly went to my old therapy sessions to annoy the therapists that had to bear with me. You can say I wasn't really into them, neither did they like me.