Chapter 8

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As I walked down that long hallway that was slowly becoming more and more familiar to me, I mentally prepared myself for what was to come out of this next session. Thoughts of what secrets might be revealed and reliving the past was still nerve wrecking to me. I don't think I can handle this. Not today. I had other things on my mind. Rather I had someone on my mind. Lazaro. Ever since I left Kells’ place, he’s been a constant stay in my thoughts. I can’t begin to explain how scary that has been. No one has been in my mental forefront more than Shawn and the mere thought of having someone else take that place is unthinkable. I shook that idea quickly. I won't let that happen.

Now standing in front of her office door, I stood cemented to the floor. Just staring at it. 'Dr.Union'. The nervousness that I thought I overcame in the previous appointments came rushing back. I took in slow, calming breaths before balling up my fist to knock on the door. However I wasn't given the chance to when the door swung open. I stepped back, startled by the way it just suddenly opened. In the midst of the 5 seconds it took for me to re-gather my nerves, an old Caucasian man came walking out with red, puffy, irritated eyes and a nose to match. He turned back and rested his frail, wrinkled hand on the door frame as if he was not ready for his session to end. Not quite yet.

"So can I call you later on today?" He asked in a weak, cracked voice.

He sounded like he has been crying his poor heart out. My heart bled for him because he looked so pitiful and helpless. I wonder... I wonder if this was how my friends saw me. My god, was this me?

"Sure Mr. Johnson." I heard Dr.Union reply.

He nodded his head and turned to walk away, but found himself right back at her office door.

"Will you be home this time?" Mr. Johnson asked.

"Yes." She simply replied.

"Ok." He said again in position to walk away. But again, as if he wasn't satisfied, he stayed by her door front. His hand never left the doorjamb.

"You know because the last time you weren't there when I needed you, and I called your cell phone but received your voicemail. I even waited outside your office for 2 hours."

I shook my head and closed my mouth that hung open as I watched him in astonishment.

"It's just like in the movies." I softly whispered to myself.

"Don't worry Mr. Johnson. I'll be home and my phone will be on." Gabrielle assured him now standing at the door herself.

"Ok...but..."

Gabrielle placed her hands on his shoulders, turning him around and politely assisted him back out the door, removing his hand from the jamb.

"Mr. Johnson!" She said in a stern but calm voice. "Go and get some rest." She insisted.

He sighed and nodded his head finally taking the hint to take himself home. Reluctantly he proceeded down the hall slowly, but surely. Gabrielle watched him disappear into the elevator before rubbing her temples and releasing a heavy groan. She kept her eyes closed for a little while with her hand rested on her forehead. Although dealing with other people’s problem was her specialty,it was comforting to see even she had her frustrating moments. Eyes reopened, she saw me and immediately straightened up and smiled.

"Good afternoon Beyoncé." She warmly greeted.

Re-entering reality, I smiled warmly and she returned the gesture. She stepped to the side, allowing me passage through the door.

"Good afternoon." I replied

While walking into her office I noticed that the room was a disaster. Used tissues lay skewed across the floor and on the chaise. I assumed this was all Mr. Johnson’s doing.

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