Ana's therapist

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

After having my dinner, I went to sleep without even making eye contact with my evil parents. My mother returned from her work and she stuck to me like a glue for the rest of the day.

The next morning, I woke up alone in my bed and I was thankful that my mother didn’t sleep with me because that would be dreadful.

A servant walked inside my room as I got up from the bed. It wasn’t common for a servant to randomly walk inside unless there was something important to talk about.

“Please get ready, Mr. Barnes is waiting for your downstairs,” The woman said. My lips parted open when I realized what she meant by that.

I had to visit the psychologist today.

“Okay, I’ll be down in a few minutes, thanks.” I smiled and the servant walked away. She closed the door and I went inside the washroom. I washed my face, brushed my teeth and changed my clothes. I wasn’t in a mood to shower and I just didn’t feel like doing anything anymore, apart from drugs.

I wore a black hoodie as it was getting colder outside. Along with that, I paired black jeans and thigh—high boots. I applied some concealer underneath my eyes and wore a light shade of lipstick.

After getting ready, I grabbed my phone and went downstairs. I had gotten quite weak after coming back from the hospital and over that, I was unable to eat properly without drugs so I lost a bit of weight. My legs felt wobbly and my stomach growled all the time.

“Good morning,” my father said as I walked out of the house. He was leaning by the car very so gently and waiting for me.

“Good morning,” I sighed as I stopped in front of him. He opened the door for me and I went inside the car. There wasn’t any driver this time, it was just me and my father.

When we got on the road, my father began to dive into awkward conversations and questions that I didn’t want to answer.

“Where are we going?” I inquired, ignoring all his past questions about my addictions and self—harm. I just didn’t feel comfortable sharing anything with my parents. Especially when they were the reason for all of it.

“A place,” My father replied.

“Like a clinic? What’s the psychologist’s name?” I asked.

“Adrain Wilson and he has his private therapy session at where he lives. It was very difficult for me to get this appointment — also very costly, so I’m expecting something out of it, Ana.” My father explained as he focused on the paved roads.

It’s all about money, all the f*****g time!

“I’ll try...” I trailed off while looking outside the window. It was slightly drizzling and the pavements were getting wet.

“Yes, I’ll expecting a good outcome and if this works out for you, I don’t mind paying for it often.” My father added as he placed his hand on my hand.

We drove around the city for a couple of minutes more and then my father stopped his car outside an old Victorian house. It was a three storey—house and the design of it was magnificent.

The long silver gates opened by a guard and my father drove inside.

“This is where my therapy sessions are going to be?” I scoffed out of ignorance.

“Yes, now don’t be rude, Ana. This is all for you,” My father said as he got out of the car. I opened the door and walked out too.

I rolled my eyes and said, “I don’t really need therapy, I still can’t understand why I’m here.” I folded my hands across my chest and stood in front of the door while waiting for my father to come to me.

He placed his hand on my shoulder and replied, “You need it, honey.”

My father then rang the bell and a woman walked out with a folder by her chest.

“Yes?” She asked. “Mr. Barnes and Miss. Ana?”

“Yes, we have an appointment with Mr. Wilson.” My father said.

“Okay, come in please,” The woman said as she opened the door and welcome us inside the house.

“Mr. Wilson is up at therapy room so you can go there, Miss. Ana and Mr. Barnes, please come with me.” The woman said.

My father began to move inside another room and I was about to be taken upstairs by another woman. I grabbed my father’s hand and stopped him out of fear.

“Wait, where will you go?” I asked.

“I’ll be here, Ana, don’t be scared.” My father patted my hand. I nodded my head and walked upstairs with the woman.

My heart was thumping out of fear, I didn’t want to see anyone, I didn’t want any therapy session and I didn’t want to talk to anyone about anything that has happened in my life. Why did I even agree to this? My social anxiety was kicking in and I just wanted to run back inside the car.

“Miss. Ana?” The woman said a bit louder and only then I was pulled out of my terrifying thoughts.

“Yes?” I asked.

We stopped in front of a door on the second floor of the house. On the wooden door, a golden engraving was done with a name Adrian Wilson.

The woman knocked the door and a thick, deep voice came from inside, “Yes, come in,”

The woman opened the door and walked inside the room, I walked behind her and noticed everything. And then my eyes landed on the man who was sitting on the couch. He stood up when he saw me and the woman.

I didn’t know but he looked familiar like I had met him before.

“This is Miss. Ana,” The woman said.

The man nodded his head, “Thank you, Sarah, you can go now.” He said to the woman and she walked out of the room, leaving me completely alone.

The rooms interior was beautifully designed and it bought tranquility to me. There were two massive windows which showed the entire city from here. The room had a couple of bookshelves, a desk, a few couches, tea table, and some drinks too.

“Have a seat, Miss. Ana.” I was pulled out of my imagination when the man in front of me spoke. Instead of noticing the room, I began admiring the man in front of me.

I didn’t know how old he was but he looked like he was in his early 30’s. He had a great built body, a beautifully sculpted face and hazel eyes that I couldn’t stop staring at.

I gulped and sat down where he ordered me too. I had never felt my stomach tightening up because of someone before. The man made me nervous

“Tea, coffee?” He asked and I immediately shook my head. I wasn’t fond of drinking anything apart from drugs.

The man sat back on his couch and folded his hands across his chest.

“How are you feeling, Ana?” He asked. The way my name rolled of his tongue caused me to look here and there.

“I’m fine,”

“What brings you here?” He asked.

“My father forced me here, I didn’t choose to come, okay!” I rolled my eyes and said.

“He forced you for a reason right?” The man asked and I nodded my head.

“Well?”

I sighed and replied, “I take drugs and self-harm sometimes so he got worried,”

“How long have you been taking drugs and what kind?” He inquired. No one had ever asked me these kinds of questions, not even my parents.

“Four years, I began smoking legal m*******a and some weed in the beginning and then I moved onto pills and other sorts of drugs,” I explained.

I didn’t know how but everything came out of my mouth like it was supposed to.

“What made you start?” He asked.

I opened my mouth to spill everything but then I stopped. I shouldn’t give in. “Why should I tell you?” I asked with a grin on my face. No one was going to force the truth out of me.

“Because I can help you with whatever is causing you distress,” The man replied and the grin vanished away from my face.

“But you’ll tell my parents?!” I asked.

“Therapy sessions are private for a reason, Ana. It’s against our code to release any private information related to our patients, not even to their parents. You can trust me with that,” Mr. Wilson replied.

This was going to be fun for some reason.