Therapy Session
Wren's POV
“Healing often involves ups and downs, setbacks, and relapses,” the young therapist says, her voice robotically calm. Like she’s said this a hundred times before.
I look around the circle and discover some people are actually nodding.
They believe that? Well good for them.
My eyes find the ceiling and I sigh – it's nice to know I'm not the only one falling apart.
A tiny patch of paint hangs low and I smirk, wondering who's head it'll fall on.
“Let’s try some affirmations today,” Mrs Rac adds, locking her fingers like she’s praying we all cooperate.
More people actually straighten up, looking interested. I am interested alright, only in something else.
I glance around for the hundredth time, frowning when I don't find the noodles the orange flier promised.
I remain slouched while the woman in our middle speaks again. “Repeat after me, I am enough.” she starts.
Those words feel too heavy for this gloomy evening but the room doesn't share the same mindset and mumbles after her. “I am enough.” It makes my eyes roll.
“Wren?” she calls patiently.
I sigh, removing my hood. When I'd given my name earlier, I really wasn't expecting her to actually use it. “Yeah?” My voice is barely audible.
“You want to give it a try?” she smiles.
I nod, “I guess… I am enough.” I mutter.
The guy sitting beside me chuckles, toying with the handle of his chair.
“That's progress, Wren.” the therapist says, her eyes shining with honesty.
Can you stop calling me like I'm some kind of rain-drenched cat you're trying to please?
“Progress would be me finally feeling like living.” The girl opposite me mutters and I blink at her.
Okay, some people actually do need this.
“We’re not aiming for perfection,” Mrs Rac softly says. “We’re going to take this step by step…”
That sounds like something an actual therapist would say but with how shabby this place looks? I highly doubt there's anything professional about this.
“Yes, Wren?” Mrs Rac answers when I raise my hand.
“Just wanted to confirm…” I hesitate.
She smiles at me. “Take your time Wren, we are all here for you.”
“Is there still free noodles after this?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
The girl in pink gasps, the boy beside me bursts out laughing, slapping his thighs like I just said that craziest joke.
There goes my hopes of being casual.
“There's instant ramen in the kitchen. You can help yourself Wren.” Mrs Rac says and with the frown on her face, I can tell this is her way of telling me to fuck off.
I waste no time, knowing she can easily change her mind.
The empty ramen cup is light in my hand, but the weight of the day drags at my legs as I walk down the hallway and push open the double doors of the hospital.
Outside my steps falter when I remember to trash the cup in hand. I turn to the nearest trash bin and dispose of it, throwing in also my fifth rejection letter this month.
The noise of moving vehicles is the only sound on the street. I exhale, already knowing nothing good will come out of today. Hell, I should have just skipped the whole day.
I breathe slowly, trying to stay in the present. The last thing I need right now is my mind delving into the past. Not everything is worth remembering.
I check my time– 6:59pm. I hurry, walking faster to the subway. Hopefully I get a spot on the train. No way I'm missing it, except I plan to sleep out on the streets.
The train arrives at exactly 7:15 pm and luckily I don't have to fight my way in this time. It’s an old one but it's gold to people like me who live four hours away from town.
I scan my prepaid card and fall into the back corner. The seat is broken, ugly, torn and still manages to reek of death itself.
Tall buildings blur past, until there are none. As night falls, only about fifteen of us are left in the train. A woman whose son keeps pulling at her hair, crying for more candies, and a group of teenagers sharing packs of cigarettes.
I stare at the kid licking chocolate off her fingers, unaware of the arguments her parents are having about her father's infidelity.
Hopefully she gets a better fate than me and doesn't have to grow up under one parent.
I run a hand through my hair, watching the emptiness outside. Everything feels louder when there's silence.
By the time the train stops, the shops on my street are all closed. No one stays out after 10:00pm. No one but Sister Geen.
“Wren, sweetie!” The middle-aged woman squeals, pulling a genuine smile from me.
“Sister Geen,” I greet, smiling at a small bag of soft puffs she has packed for me again.
She leans over her wooden counter. “Any luck today?”
I shake my head but my smile doesn't drop. “Another day.”
Her eyes sadden. “Oh sweetie, this is your fifth try this month right?”
I nod, “Yeah,”
“Don’t they see how good you are?” She groans but calms down when I pat her shoulder.
“Clearly they don't but I'm not about to give up.” I say, drawing up all the strength in me for that statement.
Thankfully Sister Geen smiles and let's it go. “Go take a shower and here,” she hands over the puffs.
“Thank you.” I say, pulling out a dollar bill.
“No sweetie, keep it.”
“But I still owe you for yesterday.” I place the money on her counter and she frowns.
“Wren?” She warns, her smile falling off.
Reluctantly I take back my money. “Thank you.”
“Oh quit saying that already. You look all skinny. Quickly, go and eat.”
I nod, heading down to my rundown apartment. It's the only one still standing near the river, slightly bent but still standing.
It only costs thirty dollars a month due to obvious reasons but even that amount of money is hard to come by.
I lift the small bag of snacks. “Hopefully you fill me tonight. Tomorrow I'll go fishing.” I whisper to myself, staring at the calm water surrounding my house.
I reach the porch, the lamp at the door is off so everywhere is a bit dark.
“I wonder if I still have a lighter.” I mutter, hoping on the last creaking step, and that's when I see it.
A man… lying dead.
“AIEEEEEE!!” An ear splitting scream rips out of my throat.
