British Bird - Chapter Three

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British Bird
Chapter Three
Sang

I want to help children, not in a way physically, but emotionally. Sometimes children see too much, hear too much, live through things they never should have lived through. They deserve someone who will listen; someone who can relate in some way to what they've either experienced or are experiencing. In simpler words, I want to be a therapist – I hate that word, it's so daunting to a child's young mind.  I want to be there for children that feel like they have no one.

For a long time I felt like that. I've lived in many foster homes, seeing and hearing things that my young mind never should have seen or heard. Sometimes I got nightmares and sometimes I don't. However, I've had more nights with nightmares than not. But then it all changed when I went to live with Cara and Johnny.

When I first moved in with them I had to sleep with the light on and the door locked – that alone says so much more then it should, right? Yeah, that's the kind of stuff I've witnessed many times in my life and I've come out lucky to never have it happen to me. But seeing it still leaves some kind of scar on the mind. Anyway, Cara and Johnny arranged for me to go and see someone.

My therapist's name was Anne. She was a lovely older lady with greying hair and a kind smile. I saw her three times a week to start off with and for the first two, I sat on the grey sofa and just stared at the wall, not saying a word. Until one day, she said "Sang, whatever you've witnessed or heard, just know that there is someone out there that can relate."

I finally found my voice and asked, "Can you?"

She never did give me an answer, but I didn't need one. I saw the shadows in the corner of her brown eyes and I knew then – even at thirteen – that Anne had probably lived the same or a familiar life as what I had. So I talked and she listened. Every now and then she would ask questions or ask me to tell her more about whatever it was we were talking about that day.

Six weeks later, I went from seeing her three times a week to one. And then a year and a bit later, she was gone. I was taken away from her just like I was taken away from Johnny and Cara and the nightmares came back. When I was seventeen I tried to see Anne again, but it turned out that she had retired and moved to Brighton with her husband. I didn't want to bother her, but I just had to thank her for everything she did for me back then. So I wrote her a letter.

Her reply is something that will always stay with me:

Remember Sang, there is always someone out there that can relate. Don't let the fear control you, but instead you control the fear. Dream and believe and always tell yourself that you're OK! You're a bright girl and I wish you all the best for the present and the future.

Inside was a card for a therapist named Dr. Hugh's. I never contacted him for an appointment. I learnt so much with Anne and every piece of advice she ever gave me is something that has always stayed with me. She also became my inspiration: I wanted to be just like her. And then I remembered them, and the stories they had shared with me and I knew it was something I just had to do.

I weave in and out of the tables, collecting the last of the breakfast dishes and taking them to the kitchen before going back out and wiping the tables down. The routine is something I have done many times before. When I'm done, I go to the bar and finish helping Adam put away the coffee mugs.

"Sang, about earlier; I'm sorry." Adam says quietly.

"Don't worry about it."

"I'm just worried about you, Sang."

I nod my head. "I know, but trust me when I say I'm okay. Please." I'm not used to having people care and worry about me. Looking up at the clock I see it's almost eleven. Lunch starts soon. "I'm going to go and take my break before lunch starts."

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