ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
I walked into my shrink's (I know she doesn't like to be called that, but I wouldn't let Dr. Kennedy brainwash me) office, and took my seat in the coffee brown couch in front of her desk. My hair was a wreck, I hadn't washed it in a week and the tangles just wouldn't come out. I knew that I looked awful. I also knew that she wanted to ask about my current condition. I could just tell it by the glint in her eyes that she wanted to ask badly.
"I don't know." I said.
"Don't know what?"
"I just. Don't know." to be truthfully honest my stomach was churning at the thought of telling her. I could almost feel it coming up like word vomit pushing its way up my throat.
I couldn't bare the silence or the patronizing look on her face, so my eyes started to meander around the room. I've always meant to ask if she had actually read all of the books or if she just wanted to impress people. One time when she left the office for a minute I skimmed through one of the books. All hocus pocus and magic incantations sent into the heavens. When she came back into the room I deliberately told her I was atheist.
My eyes wandered over to the degrees and awards behind her desk, the first time I was forced into seeing her I thought she couldn't be more than 35, but according to her degree she had to be old enough to be my mother. Maybe even grandmother.
My head nodded slowly forward and my vision blurred. I pulled my hand over my mouth to cover my yawn.
My hands smelled like bleach.
I couldn't remember why exactly, but for some reason I just knew that that smell would haunt me for years.
"When was the last time you slept?" she asked me, slightly alarmed.
"I don't know" yawn "a week, maybe two?" yawn "what does it matter? Just as long as you get paid to keep me sane right?" that was kind of harsh, I knew it was harsh, but remember, word vomit? It didn't sit right in my stomach. She didn't even flinch from what I said, I'm pretty sure she was used to outbursts like that. "I'm sorry." I retaliated. "Just. Not sleeping stops the censor between my brain and my mouth."
"Why haven't you slept?"
"And I've started biting my nails again… I'm afraid, actually to be truthfully honest I'm scared shitless," I meant for my voice to come out stronger, but it cracked in the middle and was too high and childlike to have a strong impact.
I didn't know when I started shaking. "Is it cold in here?" I asked. She shook her head; her face looked too distorted, almost like she cared more than she should, like I was worrying her. Maybe she is my grandmother's age, you could only bring out a concerned look like that in a wise enough person. "don't worry I didn't start using again, but I'm afraid I might." weed, methamphetamines, LSD, OxyContin, Valium, whatever it was it was probably in my system at some point or another.
This was gonna be our last session. I was gonna be done. I would have finally been able to walk with my head held high knowing that I was A Normal And Happy Functioning American Teenager.
But of coarse I'd had to remember something ELSE to fuck up my brain, just when I though it was right again.
"Do you want to tell me?" she was hopeful, and to be truthful, if it weren't for the way she asked that question I probably wouldn't have told her.
I started to pull at the threads in the tear in my jeans, "it all started with this dream I started having about a month ago, I would have told you but I didn't think anything of it till about 2 weeks ago after our session. Something about me and Alex? And how it was almost like we try to find any way possible to touch each other. Well, that's how the dream started. We were eating ice cream cones, like how we used to when we were little. He had gotten some on his face, like always, and I could have told him about the mess on his face, but I didn't want to, so I wiped it off, but, for some reason, it was different. Then he looked at me with those eyes, it was a look that I had never seen on his face before. It was desperate and hopeful and so wrecked. Then he pulled out a rose, set it between us and just left."
"Left where?"
"I don't know, just, left." I said briefly pausing. "Anyway, the rose was just sitting there. Staring at me. Scrutinizing me. Then the rose was transforming into some creature. A hideous monster. It grew limbs and spider fingers and razor sharp teeth, I tried to run, I swear to god I did, but it held me in place with this high pitched whirring. then it began to eat me, it always went for my heart first, and I gotta tell you, when it was eating the rest of my body it was bearable, but the very first bite was always the worst the crunch as it was gnawing at my ribs almost drove me crazy. It always ate my brain last so I could feel every. Last. Agonizing. Burst of pain.
"And I figured it out. The thing that had me using drugs in the first place the thing that I had been keeping secret. The thing that I was hiding from even myself.
"I'm gay…" I couldn't hear myself speak the words that haunted me. When I said it, it sounded like white noise dripping out the back of my throat. "I'm gay" I repeated this time hearing myself.
"And how'd you come to that conclusion, Jonathan?" she said, almost like she knew all along.
"Well, the eating-ice-cream-with-best-friend thing was like me wishing we were young again when everything was SO much simpler. The rose was my love for him, and the monster eating me was the whole thing eating away at my brain." I shrugged; she knew that, I knew that, she just wanted me to say it out loud as an affirmation. My heart hurt now, and my stomach was churning. I looked down at the sepia carpet.
And when did I start crying?
"You know this is still your last session?"
My head snapped up, "what? Bu- but no! You can't do that to me! What am I going to do?!" I asked roughly pulling my hands through my tangled hair.
"You'll be fine, I've always know you'd be fine."
"You knew…" I said, didn't ask, just, stated.
"I've always known, but I wasn't here to tell you strait out, 'you're gay' if I went about it that way you'd have yelled at me, called me a liar, asked for a new physiatrist and you probably had a rougher time coming to terms with who you really where."
Dr. Kennedy's a smart lady.
"So what do I do now?"
"What do you think you should do?"
"I think I should…"
"I don't know." I said.
"Don't know what?"
"I just. Don't know." to be truthfully honest my stomach was churning at the thought of telling her. I could almost feel it coming up like word vomit pushing its way up my throat.
I couldn't bare the silence or the patronizing look on her face, so my eyes started to meander around the room. I've always meant to ask if she had actually read all of the books or if she just wanted to impress people. One time when she left the office for a minute I skimmed through one of the books. All hocus pocus and magic incantations sent into the heavens. When she came back into the room I deliberately told her I was atheist.
My eyes wandered over to the degrees and awards behind her desk, the first time I was forced into seeing her I thought she couldn't be more than 35, but according to her degree she had to be old enough to be my mother. Maybe even grandmother.
My head nodded slowly forward and my vision blurred. I pulled my hand over my mouth to cover my yawn.
My hands smelled like bleach.
I couldn't remember why exactly, but for some reason I just knew that that smell would haunt me for years.
"When was the last time you slept?" she asked me, slightly alarmed.
"I don't know" yawn "a week, maybe two?" yawn "what does it matter? Just as long as you get paid to keep me sane right?" that was kind of harsh, I knew it was harsh, but remember, word vomit? It didn't sit right in my stomach. She didn't even flinch from what I said, I'm pretty sure she was used to outbursts like that. "I'm sorry." I retaliated. "Just. Not sleeping stops the censor between my brain and my mouth."
"Why haven't you slept?"
"And I've started biting my nails again… I'm afraid, actually to be truthfully honest I'm scared shitless," I meant for my voice to come out stronger, but it cracked in the middle and was too high and childlike to have a strong impact.
I didn't know when I started shaking. "Is it cold in here?" I asked. She shook her head; her face looked too distorted, almost like she cared more than she should, like I was worrying her. Maybe she is my grandmother's age, you could only bring out a concerned look like that in a wise enough person. "don't worry I didn't start using again, but I'm afraid I might." weed, methamphetamines, LSD, OxyContin, Valium, whatever it was it was probably in my system at some point or another.
This was gonna be our last session. I was gonna be done. I would have finally been able to walk with my head held high knowing that I was A Normal And Happy Functioning American Teenager.
But of coarse I'd had to remember something ELSE to fuck up my brain, just when I though it was right again.
"Do you want to tell me?" she was hopeful, and to be truthful, if it weren't for the way she asked that question I probably wouldn't have told her.
I started to pull at the threads in the tear in my jeans, "it all started with this dream I started having about a month ago, I would have told you but I didn't think anything of it till about 2 weeks ago after our session. Something about me and Alex? And how it was almost like we try to find any way possible to touch each other. Well, that's how the dream started. We were eating ice cream cones, like how we used to when we were little. He had gotten some on his face, like always, and I could have told him about the mess on his face, but I didn't want to, so I wiped it off, but, for some reason, it was different. Then he looked at me with those eyes, it was a look that I had never seen on his face before. It was desperate and hopeful and so wrecked. Then he pulled out a rose, set it between us and just left."
"Left where?"
"I don't know, just, left." I said briefly pausing. "Anyway, the rose was just sitting there. Staring at me. Scrutinizing me. Then the rose was transforming into some creature. A hideous monster. It grew limbs and spider fingers and razor sharp teeth, I tried to run, I swear to god I did, but it held me in place with this high pitched whirring. then it began to eat me, it always went for my heart first, and I gotta tell you, when it was eating the rest of my body it was bearable, but the very first bite was always the worst the crunch as it was gnawing at my ribs almost drove me crazy. It always ate my brain last so I could feel every. Last. Agonizing. Burst of pain.
"And I figured it out. The thing that had me using drugs in the first place the thing that I had been keeping secret. The thing that I was hiding from even myself.
"I'm gay…" I couldn't hear myself speak the words that haunted me. When I said it, it sounded like white noise dripping out the back of my throat. "I'm gay" I repeated this time hearing myself.
"And how'd you come to that conclusion, Jonathan?" she said, almost like she knew all along.
"Well, the eating-ice-cream-with-best-friend thing was like me wishing we were young again when everything was SO much simpler. The rose was my love for him, and the monster eating me was the whole thing eating away at my brain." I shrugged; she knew that, I knew that, she just wanted me to say it out loud as an affirmation. My heart hurt now, and my stomach was churning. I looked down at the sepia carpet.
And when did I start crying?
"You know this is still your last session?"
My head snapped up, "what? Bu- but no! You can't do that to me! What am I going to do?!" I asked roughly pulling my hands through my tangled hair.
"You'll be fine, I've always know you'd be fine."
"You knew…" I said, didn't ask, just, stated.
"I've always known, but I wasn't here to tell you strait out, 'you're gay' if I went about it that way you'd have yelled at me, called me a liar, asked for a new physiatrist and you probably had a rougher time coming to terms with who you really where."
Dr. Kennedy's a smart lady.
"So what do I do now?"
"What do you think you should do?"
"I think I should…"
What would you do?
this boy was difficult, he didn't even want to tell me his secret -_-
my rough (rough) draft:
he is tired/crazy (in the end both)
talking to shrink/friends (shrink)
dream
ending?
word count: 1218
i only gave names if they knew what the "secret" was (:
this boy was difficult, he didn't even want to tell me his secret -_-
my rough (rough) draft:
he is tired/crazy (in the end both)
talking to shrink/friends (shrink)
dream
ending?
word count: 1218
i only gave names if they knew what the "secret" was (:
© 2010 - 2024 XxOver-The-EdgeXx
Comments8
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Surprised that no one has commented this yet. Either way, congrats on winning. You have several typos, especially toward the end, and the grammar's a bit off at times, but overall, not bad. The way you described the character at first had me betting on some wannabe hardcore chick. Kudos.