Addicted

.01

College, oh college was very stressful. I had been very proud to have completed six years of it. Seemed almost impossible half way through. I did it though, I did it.

Now being 26 years old, I'm happy with where I am, this is something I have always wanted to do. Since I was just a little kid, always. Watching my mum grow up helping people inspired me. It meant something in my heart to help someone, even if I was only helping for the day. That dream, that feeling, it never changed growing up. Here I am, six years out of high school. Two months into my private therapy business.

Sincere Thoughts. That's what I called it. Clever? I think so. I've had multiple patients already, all very interesting. There's something about a therapist having a private business. It drew everyone who needed help in.

It was currently 12:02 when I heard a quiet knock on the door. First patient of the day, her name was Caroline Smith. She was 15 years old, and she was recently kidnapped and raped. Her parents found her in her 23 year old uncles basement, starved and unclothed. Her uncle has received lifetime in prison.

He had her for 4 months. 4 months! My heart aches for this little girl, but, professional is how I need to keep it. I do indeed, and she continues to come back. She sees me, because she says it scarred her.

I can't even imagine.

I listen to her, she seems to be afraid to talk about the situation. Which professionally, I know that not talking about something that has affected you deeply, can only affect you more. Today is her 7th appointment, and today I think I'm going to get her to go through the whole thing.

We'll start with month one today, month two tomorrow, month three Thursday, and month four on Friday. As harsh as it sounds, even to me, it's something she must be able to do. Telling someone after going through something tragic to you, helps relieve the stress in the back of your mind.

"Good morning Karly" she sweetly smiled at me.

"Good morning Caroline!" I smiled, "and how are you today?"

"I'm tired, I didn't sleep much last night"

"I have a solution and plan, and you may not like this plan, I don't expect you too. But do trust me when I say it will help in the long run" I softly told her.

Just us, in this big room. I watched as my words seemed to hit her in the side of the face, as they bounced off of each of my office walls. As she looked at me with fear and tiredness in her eyes.

This poor girl.

"Okay.." she replied slowly, cautiously.

"I think today, I want you to tell me everything that happened the first month. How your uncle got you, what he told you, what he did. Everything, okay?"

"I-I" she stuttered, the tears already beginning.

I handed her a box of tissues as I promised, "this is your safe place Caroline. The information you share with me will not, and I mean never, be shared with another individual."

"Okay," she sighed, taking a tissue and sitting back in the middle of thee long couch, "he came over for a family dinner."

I scribbled this down on my notepad, it was good for therapist to take notes. It sorted everything out in their minds, and helped find a diagnoses if needed.

"I was upstairs in my room, changing, getting ready, you know- for the dinner" she cried, I knew that her letting this emotion out was going to be good for her.

"I heard a knock on the door, and y'know, of course I didn't answer. I just said 'be right there!' so simply, I didn't think much of it of course" she continued.