My Creative Writing Portfolio

A Basket Case (785 words)

Porcelain fingers tapping against dark jeans, the young, unkempt girl looked around the room at anything, but the man sat in front of her. This was how the rest of the visits started. A man or woman sitting opposite her, perfectly poised, with a notepad and a biro in their hand. Some biros were blue, others were black. But... This one, Tessa hadn't come across yet. A soothing shade of lilac ink scratching against the crisp, white paper. She had to hide a chuckle. Weirdly enough, this had already made Tessa feel less apprehensive about her situation. A simple thing, like the colour of biro ink. How could that make her feel different about a scene she had been a part of so many times?

"Right." the man started. "Shall we start, Tessa?"

Tessa stared at him. Where could she even begin? The first time it happened was scarcely three years ago, yet it felt like yesterday. It happened whenever she slept. She'd wake up, pale and almost drowning in sweat. It always felt so real. But... It was never her it happened to.

"You tell me."

She was never this sarcastic in these situations. But she was tired of this. She had lost count of how many times she'd been in this situation. It honestly felt like money down the drain by this point. It had been three years, it was simple.

She was a basket case.

"Did anything happen to you before these... Dreams started?" he suggested. "Something that could've triggered them?"

Eyebrows raised, Tessa looked around the office again. Screams flooded her ears, screams and crashes echoing through her head. The feeling of water suffocating her, filling her lungs every second, tortured her. A hand squeezing her neck, burning sensations scorching her skin, smoke filling her lungs. She had seen it all, she could feel it all.

No-one had been able to figure out what exactly was wrong with the girl. She had countless tests performed on her, stayed in hospital over two hundred times in the past three years. This was the last resort, sitting in front of a stranger to talk about herself. She only did it because it made her leave her home. These situations were the only thing she'd go outside for. Her mother always brought her shopping and new clothes, crinkling her nose up at the mess that had been continuously growing in her daughter's flat. Her father had always told her mother that she was doing too much for Tessa. He was convinced that it was just her imagination, she'd always had a rather active imagination.

"No." she stated bluntly. "My God, have you even looked at my notes?"

The man stared at her curiously as she crossed her legs and folded her arms over her chest. She wasn't crazy. She knew she hadn't gone completely insane. She had markings from each night, each time these scenes happened. They were souvenirs and she always knew where they'd come from. It became a daily routine to find a new one every time she'd wake up.

"Can you tell me why you have coloured hair?" he asked, gesturing to the rushed ponytail of bright pink hair that hung on the back of her head.

She snorted and rolled her eyes. What kind of question was this? What did her hair colour have to do with any of this? Well, in all honesty, her hair did have a lot to do with this. But she would never tell him that in their first meeting. She wasn't that naive.

"Because I like it."

"Or is it because you have reassurance that it's not you?"

She stopped and stared at the man, silence taking over. Tick, tick, tick. Tick, tick, tick. The clock had indicated that the pair had only been in the room together for twenty minutes. It felt so much longer for Tessa. So, so much longer. Just like everything she had witnessed, everything in her life. It all felt so much longer.

How did he know this? This wasn't in her notes, she hadn't told anyone the real reason she had bright hair. There was something odd about this man and she couldn't decide if this was a good thing or not.

"How..."

"It's obvious. You're scared."

Of everything. From wearing scarves to laying in baths to late night drives with friends. Except for her parents and countless doctors, she had been isolated from everyone in her life for two and a half years. They all got sick of her refusing to leave the building and being scared of everything.

But... She couldn't help it. She saw deaths as they happened and couldn't do anything to stop it.