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"When i first met you i thought you were cruel."
"I am"
"Not to me"
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"I'd rather have you hating me than not have you at all."
"How is it possible that it...
Being a psychiatrist is not an easy job. You have to sit on a cushioned chair all day, listen to other people talk about their problem while you continuously have to work your brain to come up with perfect solutions. They come to me for the most absurd things. I once had a client who had problems with her child. She told me that her child is the devil and 'it' makes her want to murder it, how it wouldn't shut up when she forgot to give it food.
Her child was twelve months old.
I fix them. They go home. Live their now perfect lives. While I go back to my home where there is no one waiting for me. No one to listen to my concerns. No one to provide remedies for my worries. But I suppose, at the end of the day this was the path I choose for myself.
People say home is where your family is Or where the people you love are. But I have neither of those. So, can i truly call this place my home? This four walled box where I sleep and sometimes eat. Where living feels like a chore and it feels cold even in the summers, But I wonder if that coldness is from the lack of warmth. Lack of human touch.
Will there ever be anyone in this world who would morn for me when I die? Someone who would cry tears of sorrow, praying to whatever gods there are, begging for five more minutes to say goodbye. Someone who would lay fresh Roses on my grave every year and shed a few lonesome tears while talking to my grave, about the memories we made and what life could have been if I was alive.
Memories. What a beautiful word. If only I had them. Even a single memory of the people who made me, who were supposed to love me. I guess I didn't even deserve the comfort of knowing the faces of the couple who was made to cherish me.
These are the thoughts I have every time I wake up and every time I am trying to fall asleep. Sleeping is easier said than done. It has been a distant dream for me for as long as I can remember. I would go to bed, think about the meaning of my meager existence and before I know it's 6 am and the alarm is going off. Not that I needed it anyway. It is meagerly there to remind me that I have completed my share of overthinking for the day.
I pull away the sage green cotton sheets while pushing my feet off the King sized bed. The first thing that I do every morning is to look down the huge window which makes up one whole wall of the bedroom. Living in a Penthouse has its perks because from here everything looks so small so insignificant. Every time I looked down I realized that there are people in this world who have more significant, more critical problems than me. This makes me a tinge less depressed about my own worries. I brush my teeth, take a shower and walk into the kitchen.
Following the same routine everyday I made myself coffee and pancakes from the leftover batter and went to sit on the couch. I turned on the TV, immediately turning on Netflix and finding my favorite show Shadow and Bone. The show had just released almost a month ago but I had watched it twice already, I turned on the first episode and concentrated on the screen while eating my breakfast.
When I saw 'Shadow and Bone' written on the screen in gold letters a shiver went down my spine. It felt cold. I felt cold. I looked around and saw an open window, curtains flowing with the wind coming from the window. Living in the penthouse also has its downfalls. Winter comes early here. I pressed pause and strode towards the single open window and looked down one list time before closing it. After double checking I went back to the couch and clicked play.
About ten minutes in i see them, first Jesper then Kaz and lastly Inej.
The addition of six of crows to the shadow and bone series, according to me and I suppose most of the readers, was the most amazing decision ever.
Kaz was still clever, Inej still stealthy and Jesper was still .... well ....very much Jesper.
At about thirty minutes in the show I see him. I did not see his face but still I somehow saw him. Wearing his signature black clothes standing there, looking over at the skiff going into the fold. Whenever I saw him I felt a sense of familiarity. Which feels odd to me. I was so focused on the silhouette of the man that I almost missed the alarm.
I groaned and turned off the TV, hastily finished my food and entered my walk in closet. Today I had chosen a simple yet elegant Royal blue knee length formal dress and paired it with blue heels. I walked towards the jewelry cabinet and searched for something to go with the dress when my eyes laid on the necklace that my grandma gave me before she died. At least that's what I was told. It had a simple thin gold chain with a small emerald green gem attached to it. The gem was sparkling under the lighting of the jewelry cabinet. I picked it up and put it around my neck and clasped it. Taking one last look at myself in the closet mirror, I picked up my office bag and walked towards the elevator.
Pushing the G button i patiently listen to the dull elevator music.
The elevator door opened with a 'ding' and I was greeted by my driver Ella.
"Good Morning" Ella said enthusiastically while waving her arms in air like she was doing a butterfly stroke.
Ella is one of a kind. While I was always serious and looking at things practically, she on the other hand was a complete goofball and a pure optimistic. It is difficult to find people like her nowadays, people who see life as an opportunity to live fully and without any regrets, doing whatever their hearts desires. Sometimes I think that maybe its because she is still young, that maybe when she reaches thirty she will realize that life is not a choice it's a task but then I find myself praying for her to never come to this realization, to never loose herself in these humane problems like me.
"Good Morning Ella" I greet her with a small smile while handing my work bag to her.
"Didn't sleep" Ella said
It was more of a statement than a question. Ella knew I had trouble sleeping. She realized this when I had her drive me to multiple doctors. One after the other, when their sleeping medicine didn't have an affect on me or when they wouldn't increase the dosage.
"Hmmmm" I replied while walking out of the building
The car was parked just in front of the exit. Ella opened the door for me. She started the car and we began our short journey to the clinic.
She started talking about her five brothers back at her hometown and told me stories about them. She always somehow manages to makes me laugh I am feeling down. I would say that she is the only person in this world who can make me laugh like that.
I giggle a little when she told me about the time when while eating spaghetti her brother laughed so hard that the noodle came out of his nostril, not just one but both of them.
She kept going on and on until both of us were laughing our ass off with tears in our eyes When suddenly I heard a loud honk and the next thing I know was my head smashing against the window of the car and glass flying everywhere.
And then Nothing.
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Word count :- 1272
Authors note - *I do not own any of the characters in this novel . This is mearly a fanfic . These are not my character . And i do not exercise any ownership over them or the story.*
