The Prophecy

talk to me. Under the agreement of you getting a car, you actually have to talk to me.” He leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk, his steady gaze unnerving me in its intensity.

I felt flustered and started wrapping my hair around my hand faster, never holding his gaze for more than a fleeting second. “Yeah, that's it in a nutshell.”

“Well, then we shouldn't have any problems, should we?” He didn't wait for a reply as he leaned back in his chair, looking for all the world like this was just a normal day in the office. I wished I could seem so casual. “So, since you have to talk, what do you want to talk about?”

I stopped my fidgeting to stare at him. “Um, I don't know. I thought you'd just barrage me with a bunch of questions, and I'd have to answer them.”

He nodded and started to swivel slightly back and forth in his chair. “Well, that could work. However, all we'd get from it would be a bunch of cut and dry answers. That wouldn't really help anything, would it?”

“Aren't you the therapist? You're supposed to ask me how I'm feeling and all that crap. Maybe have me lie down on a couch, and tell you my childhood nightmares or something.” I was baffled. “I don't know how this is supposed to work. If you don't know either, then, obviously, this is a huge waste of time.” My anger started to build as I rose in agitation. He was a lunatic with a degree.

“Ha! So you don't know how this works, right?” He said, pouncing forward in his chair, like he just caught me in the act.

“Um, yeah, I don't.”

“And all you're basing your anxiety off of is what you've seen on T.V. or horror stories from people, right?”

I slowly sat back down again. I hoped he had a point for all of this confusion. “Yeah. I don't see where you're going with this.”

“It's quite simple really. Before you walked in this office, you had a grudge against it without even knowing what it would be like or what would happen here. You've judged me and these sessions negatively. Thus, creating a negative outlook on it.”

“Still I don't see what that has to do with anything.”

“It has to do with this; if you think negatively about everything that goes on here, then we won't get anywhere, and we'll just be wasting time. I'll get paid regardless. There's really not much of a downfall for me. But, I'm one of those damned people who actually like to help, so I would feel bad.”

“Yeah, that makes me feel so much better about you taking my parents money.” I rolled my eyes, and felt myself start to relax.

“Glad we've got your feelings about that out there. Anyways, now that you've admitted out loud that you don't know squat about all of this and that you're judging in a negative way. Also, we've come to discover that with you knowing how you're seeing it that we won't get anywhere until you let go of the prejudices.”

“We did?”

“Yes.”

“When?” I rested my elbows on my knees as I leaned forward. This was beyond confusing. I hated feeling like an idiot.

“Just now. See how you are fully seated in the chair and leaning toward me? It shows that you're relaxed and paying attention. The fact that you're slightly slumped shows that you're comfortable with me and listening to me at the moment. And, you don't have that scared 'deer in headlights' look in your eyes anymore.” His laugh washed over me, making me feel oddly safe, comfortable.

I contemplated what he said and realized that I was relaxed. The anger that always seemed to be just below the surface was slightly dissipated. “Huh, guess you're right.”

“Of course I am. I have diplomas and doctorates to prove that I'm right regardless.” His sarcasm had me smiling. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

“So, where do you want to begin?”

“At the beginning, of course.”

“Like, birth?”

“No. How did you get here? What started it all?”

Then again, I've been known to be wrong. I tensed as the anger started to rise. “I don't like talking about that.”

“You know, I've read all the documents from the incident and talked to your psychologist back in California as well as talked to Rebecca,” I flinched slightly at the sound of her name. “What I haven't done though, is judged you or condemned you because of those facts.”

“I do not like to talk about it. It doesn't matter what you say or don't say, people always judge. Including you.” My anger was rising swiftly. I began to feel the darkness spread, like the toxin my life had become.

“So you're afraid to talk about it because you don't want people to judge you.”

“No! I'm not afraid to talk about it and people already do judge me. I don't like to talk about it because I don't have any answers to give!” I threw my arms out angrily then slumped back in my seat.

“How can you not have any answers when you were there? Didn't you see what happened?”

“Look, I can tell you what happened. What she was doing, what I was doing. What she said and what I had said. I can even tell you what I was eating for crying out loud, but everything that I would tell you are already in the files that you've read through.” I gestured to the files that were stacked neatly on top of his desk.

“You're right, these files told me everything, except for the most important part. They won't tell me how your break in friendship with Rebecca started. They didn't tell me how you felt when everything happened, or even how you felt before and after everything happened.”

“How will that help anything?” I rubbed my hand slowly across my forehead, already weary of this discussion.

“You'd be surprised. So, how did you and Rebecca become friends?”

“Do I have to do this?” I looked at him hopefully, praying for some mercy. But by the determined look in his eyes I knew that there was no turning back. I wouldn't be able to get out of this. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the onslaught of breaking open fresh wounds.

“Fine. Rebecca and I became friends in elementary school.”

“That young huh? What made you decide to be her friend?”

I smiled from the memory, it was one of the few good ones I had left. “It was the shirt she was wearing. If you've noticed, I have a tendency to dress in dark colors. Becca was the only girl besides me who wore a black shirt to school that first day, but instead of hers having a hot pink bunny on it, she had a neon blue bunny. We hated each other on sight. During that first day, we didn't talk to each other at all, just kept glaring at each other and making small little comments about whose shirt was better. At the end of the week, we finally had enough and fought it out. Ever since that fight, we were inseparable.” My smile fell as my mind started focusing on everything else that happened.

“So you were happy with her as your friend.”

“Yeah, she was like a sister to me. I loved her more than anything and trusted her completely.”

“When did your friendship start to fall apart?”

“Freshman year. She wanted us to keep being the same, experiencing the same things. I wasn't ready for a lot of what she wanted us to do.”

“What was it she wanted you guys to do?”

 I started to panic. I'd never told anyone the entire truth before. No one would have believed me and while I doubted James would I still didn't feel comfortable revealing everything after so many years of lying. Frantic, I looked around for an escape. Seeing the time I breathed a sigh of relief and stood up quickly. “Well, look at the time. Our sessions over. Same time next week?” I left before he could say anything. Mom had already drilled the time into me, so his assent wasn't needed. I was proud of myself. For once I started talking about Rebecca without the darkness taking over. Maybe this was a sign that things would get better.

Chapter Eight