I won't drag you down with me

4. Don't cry, baby

As I made my way up the stairs, I felt nervous. The center's first and only floor was made of Dr. Jones' office, and a couple of rooms we sometimes had therapy in.

The only thing I knew was that we couldn't have our rooms upstairs for safety reasons. And what I mean by that is that they were afraid we could have thrown ourselves out of the windows.

I reached Dr. Jones' office door and was about to knock when I heard voices coming from the inside. I withdrew my hand, now hanging in mid-air, and tried to determine what they were saying.

"No, he's not! You cannot do that!", a female voice shouted out, sounding angry. I heard a sigh, then someone standing up, the sound of the chair gliding across the pavement.

"The center has very strict rules about this, Mrs. Miller. I'm sure you understand that"

"He does not need it!", the woman yelled again, with an annoyed and irritated tone in her voice.

The voices must have been whispering now, because all I could hear were muffled, suppressed noises. "He's sick", a calm and patient voice said, and I knew it was Dr. Jones's.

"Oh, please. Don't be ridiculous! Loot at him, he's just fine!", the woman spoke again, this time angrier and louder than before.

Someone stood up with a quick move. There was silence in the room for several seconds. Just as I thought it was the perfect moment to knock on the door, it suddenly opened.

Aiden was standing in front of me, looking like someone who wanted to be anywhere else but there.

"Enjoyed the show?", he barked aggressively at me, his eyes scrutinizing mine with anger as I stood there, not knowing what to say, before he walked away towards the stairs.

I glanced in the room and saw Dr. Jones talking to the woman I must've heard speaking - screaming - just a few seconds earlier. She was wearing a light blue, slightly see-through blouse and a matching skirt, with high heels, and her hair was up in a low and perfectly made bun. She had cold blue eyes, framed by a light layer of eyeshadow and some mascara.

The woman said something to Dr. Jones, who was standing just before her, in what sounded like a threat, then straightened her back and turned around.

She looked at me from head to toe, before walking out of the room with her chin up in the air. I heard the sound of her heels on the floor fading away, until they disappeared.

"Reese", Dr. Jones said with a tone of surprise, watching me as I stood in the doorway.

I took my eyes off the spot where the woman had vanished. "I'm sorry to barge in here like this. I can come back later", I offered, glancing at the hallway behind me.

The petite, middle-aged woman in front of me waved a kindly dismissive hand at me. "Oh, no, it's fine, dear. Come on in"

I nodded and closed the door behind me. She sat down at her desk and waved her hand at the chair positioned in front of it, so I sat, looking around at the small but homey space around me.

"You wanted to see me?"

"I did, actually", she sighed, looking at me. My stomach twisted in agitation. "So, how are things going? I heard you've made some friends"

"I have. We get along pretty well", I responded, trying to anticipate where she was going with that.

"I'm glad to hear that, Reese". She smiled at me and I returned the smile, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

Dr. Jones was one of the few shrinks I liked at the center, but I always felt like she was walking on eggshells when talking to me. It made me feel weak and unable to defend myself, and I hated it.