Therapy (ON HOLD)

Olivia.

Friday

"Olivia. Hello?"

My head ached with the self-deprecation and sleep deprivation. "Yes, Jessica?" A weary voice came out of my mouth.

"Is Josh taking you to homecoming? It's only two months away, you know? Have you picked out a dress?" Her grating voice continued questioning, not giving me time to answer even if I wanted to.

I don't think they even pay attention to me. I feel like it's obvious, maybe not.

"So..?" She paused "Oh, who am I kidding, he asked you."

My head nodded and my lips curled up into a fake smile. "Yeah, he did."

"I've got to go, Jessica. Talk to you later." I hang up the phone before I can hear her reply.

She's a good person; I was mad for no reason. She's your friend.

"Ugh!" I feel my eyes roll at myself as I grab a cigarette to relax before my weekly session of therapy. The inhale burns my lung, gives a sense of pain and slow death.

Depression has hung over my head for about four years now, going to therapy. I don't understand the reason for my depression. I've learned to go with the flow and just take it. If I can't fix it, then why try to fight it.

When cigarette dwindles down to the filter, I flick it to the ground and rub my heel over it. I shove my phone in my pocket and walk into the office.

"Hello, Olivia. Doctor Charles will be with you in a second, just have a seat." Geri, the receptionist, explained to me.

"Thanks, Geri." I smiled, or rather tried to. It didn't matter. She didn't care.

I should just stop trying to keep up this act. It's exhausting.

The door to Doctor Charles' office opened, and he stuck his head out to welcome me in.

"Hi, Olivia. How are you doing today?" I don't even have to look at him to see the smile on his face anymore.

Shrugging is my first reaction, "Normal, I guess. I was talking to Jessica about homecoming before I came in. Josh hasn't asked me. I think he just assumed we're going." I frowned.

"And that make you feel..?" He pried.

"Disappointed, sorta? I don't even want to go." I shrug once more.

"It's your senior year don't you want to go to your last homecoming?"

"Not feeling it?"

It came out more like a question than I wanted it to. I had gone to the others, and it was just too tiring to convince everyone. To keep up with this "nothing is wrong" attitude.

Everything was wrong.

---

My bag hit the ground beside my bed as I flopped down on top of the soft blue comforter. I snuggled into the pillows before my phone buzzed in my bag.

"Ughh, why is it every time I'm laying down I get called?" I questioned the universe before reaching down to grasp the metal rectangle, vibrating away.

Josh. Great more fake happiness to spew at more people.

"Hey, babe." I put the phone on speaker, laying it on my bed.

His gruff voice comes through from the other line. "How was your day, baby?"

"Fine. Normal, I guess." My eyes drift to the bong sitting in my closet, my mouth curls into a smile. "You?"