After Hardin

11

~ HARDIN ~

I called the therapist that my mom recommended and scheduled an appointment for Friday afternoon. The closer to the appointment the more nervous about it I am. After all of this time, do I really think that this will help? I highly doubt it, but I guess it is worth a shot.

I found a flat that is close to my Mum and Mike's place and I can move in next weekend. It will be nice to have my own place. I will be close enough to my Mum yet gives me space to be alone. I have one last assignment to do before graduation. I want to finish it so I can just be done with school.

Friday afternoon comes faster than I wanted it to. I'm sitting in the waiting room to meet with the therapist. I contemplate walking out and just as I am about to stand up and leave, the door opens and the therapist, Dr. George Taylor, calls me back. I stand up, wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans and run my hands through my hair. Why am I so fucking nervous.

The room is larger than I thought it would be. There are two large brown leather wingback chairs sitting in front of a floor to ceiling bookcase that fills the entire wall. There is a round wooden coffee table in front of both chairs. On the other side of the room is an ornate desk with papers neatly stacked on it.

"Have a seat and get comfortable," Dr. Taylor says. I choose the chair that is closest to the door in case I want to make a dash out the door. Dr. Taylor notices my choice of seat and chuckles.

"So, Hardin, can you tell me why you are here today?" Dr. Taylor asks. I sit silently debating if I want to do this or not. He waits patiently for me. I stand up and start pacing. I can't sit. I'm too nervous and on edge.

"I'm a mess. I need to not be a mess. Fuck. I need to be fixed. My Mum suggested therapy, so here I am," I huff out and then throw myself back into the chair and look up at the ceiling.

"So why don't we start with why you feel like you are a mess."

"Where do I even start? There is so much," I respond.

Dr. Taylor looks at me for a moment before speaking, "How about you start at the beginning."

I take a deep breath and start from the beginning. "I was four when I first noticed that my dad had a problem. He was never home, and when he would come home he was always drunk. When he was drunk he always yelled at me or would destroy my things. Mostly my books...." I talked for almost the whole hour. Dr. Taylor listened intently and prompted me to keep talking when I would stop. He asked me how things made me feel and reassured me that my feelings were valid.

We barely touched the surface of everything about me that is fucked up, but I left there feeling a tiny bit better. Maybe this whole therapy thing will work. On my way back to my Mum's house, I stopped at the floral store and picked up a bouquet of flowers to surprise my Mum.

~ TESSA ~

I went through the rest of the week like a zombie. I couldn't take my mind off of the pregnancy. I picked up my phone to contact Hardin so many times, but never went through with it. I've had a lot of time to think things through. I'm not sure if I want to keep the baby yet, but I know for a fact that I will not have an abortion. It isn't this baby's fault that Hardin is the way he is.

Friday before Econ started Jenna came up to me very excited, "I'm so ready to celebrate tonight!" Crap. I forgot about going out tonight. I was so wrapped up in my new baby drama that I completely forgot about it. I was trying to think of a way to tell Landon about what's going on with me.