Chapter 1: Therapy

I've saved a lot of money in the past five years or so, and sometime last month I decided to blow it all. Not on clothes, make-up,shoes, or anything like that, but on therapy sessions. Weird, I know, but at the time I felt like I needed it, I have no idea why, but I did. And now, I absolutely regret it, my therapist,Dr. Hale, is a total a*s and is completely nosy!

Chapter 1: Therapy 

Today will be my tenth session with Dr. Hale, and I have to say he's not such an a*s as before. He still is unfortunately, just not as much. I parked my car-well, my dad's car-and took in the scenery that never seemed to phase me. It was always so beautiful here, especially during the fall when the leaves changed colors and the flowers sway beautifully in the wind for the last times until winter started and ended. I sighed in frustration, knowing if I was late I'd be charged a fine. I pulled myself unwillingly away from the scenery that keeps me at peace and headed inside the building and onto the third floor, where I was greeted by the receptionist, Alice Hale, Dr. Hale's daughter. "Hey Al," I said, we weren't best friends, but we got along just fine. "Hello Ms. Aimee," she joked, "my dad said as soon as you got here to send in you, so go, go," she shooed me and I walked into the office laughing.

"Nice to see you on this fine day," Dr. Hale spoke, not giving me a chance to sit down first. I rolled my eyes, I was so use to his sarcasm by know that I had no reason to get worked up over it, I know he means well though. "Hi Emmett, how's the wife?" I asked, feeling a little smug about it, too. He absolutely hated when I addressed him by his first name, but not because I was a good deal younger than him-3 to four years max-but because I was a client. "I'm not even going to get worked up over that, you are not worth it," he smiled at me, and again, I rolled my eyes. "Aw, was that suppose to hurt?" I asked rhetorically. We went on like this for what seemed like half my session and I couldn't help but think of my first session with him, when things weren't as funny as they are now. It was a Tuesday afternoon, September 22nd to be exact. I remember this because it was the day I vowed to never cut again, and so far I've been good on it:

 I got out of my car and my breath was taken away when I saw the view in front of me. The leaves on the trees were all different colors, indicating signs of fall, and as the wind blew slightly, the flowers danced like they would never live again, as if winter would come and never leave. I sighed, reluctantly walking away from the scene and into the building. I found the elevator and pushed the number three and took a deep breath, might as well stick it threw, I'm already here right? Wrong. The elevator doors opened and I began having second thoughts, I could handle this on my own, cutting was a way for me to release was I was feeling, but I didn't want to rely on that! I didn't  want to kill myself because I was too chicken to walk into the office of my new therapist! Who I paid five-hundred dollars to in advance!

All the money I spent decided it for me, I would not be chicken, and I will not die for being chicken. I took two deep breathes and walked into the reception area and went towards the desk, "Hi. Name please," a girl, who looked my age spoke, smiling kindly at me. I thought I detected a different reading in her eyes, like she thought I was being crazy. But I came to the conclusion that I was being paranoid, and if she was thinking that she had every right to, "Err, Aimee Jerkins," I told her and she sat up straight. "Oh, my dad told me to tell you to go right in, so go, go," she shooed me away and I walked to the back, an eyebrow raised skeptically. All the nerves I had gotten rid of in the elevator slowly crept back to me, and the door where my session would take place seemed to move further and further away. "Don't be a chicken now, idiot," I mumbled to myself and shook my head, I would not be a chicken, I was so close. I stopped at a door, and in big bold black letters were the words "Dr. Hale/Teen Therapist". With one last deep breath I opened the door and saw him sitting there.

Of course the first thing that would come to anyones head when they first saw Dr. Hale was beauty. He was the most beautiful I had ever seen, perfectly groomed blond hair, pale skin, honey-brown eyes and a clean, hairless face. Since he was sitting down I could only take a guess, but a guess was enough; Dr. Hale had an extremely nice body. "Aw, you must be Aimee Jerkins," he breathed softly. I shook my head yes, more dazzled than nervous now. I took a seat with the invitation from his hand and he smiled at me, "so from everything you've told me on the phone you seem like a very depressed girl," he said, not the least bit sidetracked from my bewildered expression, "it's a shame, your such a pretty girl," he had told me, smiling softly, I on the other hand, was not smiling. My face expression went from bewildered to shocked. I was completely shocked, did all therapist say things like this to their clients? I thought they just listened and gave advice, not tell them something hurtful and act like an a*s, all the while smiling in your face as if nothings wrong! "Uh, yea, can we get started?" I asked, and he laughed at my impatience and gestured with his hand, for me to begin. I explained to him how I felt no one would be sad if I felt, how my dad would rather drink than be comforted by the fact that he had a daughter who would always be there for him, not matter what. I also explained to him that I was trying to get out of an abusive relationship, but it's harder than it sounds. At the end of everything I was fighting back tears. He may be my therapist, and I may have just dumped my whole story on him, but I wasn't ready to cry in front of him. Weird, I know, but it just didn't feel right. He laughed, and I eyed him, shocked, confused, and extremely hurt. "Do you know how many times teenage girls like you come in here with a sob story like that, or close to it?" He asked rhetorically, still laughing, "yours is by far my favorite, though," he spoke the last sentence as if he was reassuring me. I fought the urge to slap him, I've never been one for violence so I got with my things and headed to the door. "You're an a*****e, and I hope someone teaches you a lesson one day!" I snapped before running out and heading do my car, where I could cry peacefully and comfortably in my own car.

I vowed to never go back there again.

I laughed at the memory of my first session with Dr. Hale. I know why I walked out the room, hurt and tormented, but I couldn't help but wonder why I came back. That part always got to me. Dr. Hale was smiling as well, probably thinking the same thing I was. "We've been threw a lot already, haven't we?" He asked, I shook my head yes, glancing at the clock. I sighed when I realized it was time for me to leave, to give the next person their turn. I'm sure they needed just as much as I did, if not more, but I doubted it. "Yes, well I'll see you tomorrow," I spoke, he could detect the sadness in my voice and smiled softly at me. I got a weird, tingly feeling in the pit of my stomach and I didn't want to go, but I willed myself to and I was soon in my car. Laughing again at the memory of my first session here. True, I didn't know, and I still don't, know why I came back to him after that, but I did, and I'm happy I did.

I smiled the rest of the way home after that. The happiest I've been in a long time.

Author's Note: **( I figured I could do the rest of the story like that. Her having her therapy sessions and going over memories, and things that happened to her, and why her life is how it is now. Tell me what you think! Your opinions matter!! Thank-You!)**  (I went threw as much as I could to fix the mistakes, but I got lazy! Sorry!)

Author's Note

Based on a review I got I decided to change the story slightly. She-Aimee, the main character-won't be as depressed as I made her seem in the introduction.

Basically, I want you guys-my readers-to be able to read this story and imagine seeing the world from the eyes of a seventeen year old girl who's been threw hell and back. It'll be full with funcasm-sarcasm and funny mixed together,lame, i know-pain,sadness, and semi-joy as the story progresses. But most importantly, I want it to be relatable to everyone that reads it!


So give me your thoughts!