Deranged {#WATTYS2015}

XIV. The Girl Who Reminisced

✖ ✖ ✖ Four Years Ago ✖ ✖ ✖

The evening sky looked dull. The clouds had turned grey and ominous, as they stuck together blocking the sun. The cold wind flashed within the rather small town, and attacked everything in its way. I shivered slightly, as the cool air nipped at my exposed skin. My lackluster blue eyes took in the mucky surroundings.

There I was standing outside of Doctor Moeller's office, an incompetent money grubbing psychiatrist, replaying everything that happened in the last miserable hour over and over again in my head. I was convinced, absolutely positive that Moeller would have plenty of negative things to say to my parents. He would surely include my verbal attack, the lack of respect I held towards adults, and the absurd way I stormed out of his session before it was even over.

My mom and dad had spent months scrapping up money and convincing that scum bag of a guy to see me after all the issues I had with my previous head shrank. Now I was sure that Thomas Moeller never wanted to see my face again, let alone my parents. There wasn't anyway of getting out of this one.

Not this time.

I weighed my options carefully. Very carefully.

I could take forever walking home to avoid my father picking me up, and screaming my head off all throughout the car ride about how sick my mother is and how little she has left before the cancer eventually takes her away from us.

But, I would still eventually have to go home, and I would only be making matters worst for myself. One pissed off parent is a whole lot better than two. Of course, my mother would be angry too but not as mad as my father, either way I was screwed.

With trembling hands, I dug around in my pocket for a minute before dragging out a cigarette. I almost thought about putting it back in the box but decided it didn't matter if my dad smelt the smoke on me, because I was already in deep shit. It felt as if my problems were draining me, and it was useless to keep trying to put up a fight.

I held the cigarette between my teeth, searching my bag for a lighter. ❝Fuck me,❞ I cursed under my breath, dragging my words out longer than usual. "You've got to kidding right now."

"Need a light?"

At first I considered ignoring the person, but the need to smoke overpowered all my better senses. Hesitantly I spun around, meeting the person's face with a glare. But, when my eyes connected with theirs, a fleet of nerves ghosted through my body. Nodding almost robotically, I stared at him intently.

Slowly, my eyes scanned him from head to toe. He was definitely fit, and very tall. As he spoke words which I weren't paying attention to, I couldn't help but stare into his eyes. They were enthralling, like sparkling kaleidoscopes of color. And for some reason, they looked like they had seen a lifetime, when in reality they had only seen a fraction. My mind clouded with numerous thoughts and suddenly I couldn't think clearly. I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out.

Never once ripping his eyes away from my own, he lit a fire to my cigarette. My throat burned at the first inhale, the heat escaped through my nose and seared my nostrils. I coughed out a few dry hacks, clearing my throat immediately but brought the cigarette back up to my lips. My second inhale was a lot calmer, and I held it in my lungs, savoring the taste. The smoke billowed out smoother, and swelled back up towards my face, and for once, my persistence had achieved more than disappointment. "Thanks."