utopia ᵃᵐᵉʳⁱᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ

[ 03 ] trauma adds to character

Maisie Warwick was sat in Ben Harmon's office. She hadn't wanted to do therapy but her uncles and (equally as dead) guardians believed it was best she got some sort of help whilst they had the opportunity.

Maisie's uncle Chad Warwick had been her legal guardian since she was six, back when her mother was chucked into rehab and then prison, and her father had  died in a car crash (attempting to run away from his mad lover) a month before she was even born.

Her mother was dead. She had died in prison due to sepsis when Maisie was eight.

Maisie hadn't been too bothered, she had never had a close relationship with her biological parents. As far as she was bothered her uncle Chad was the father she never had, plus she had her uncle Patrick who she loved too.

Whilst Chad and Pat had a rocky relationship, the two tried to keep everything stable for their niece. So whilst Pat was having an affair and the two began to slowly fall in and out of love, they still tried to make sure Maisie was happy and healthy and had the loving parents she deserved.

"So, you live with your uncles?"

"Yeah, is that a problem?" She questioned, eyes narrowing on Ben Harmon as she judged him. "Because if there is, let me know now before I waste my time on being here."

"No, it's not a problem. What happened to your parents?"

"Mom was in and out of rehab until I was six where she was put in rehab one last time and then arrested, she proceeded to got sepsis and died when I was eight. And my father died before I was born."

Ben nodded as he listened. "How does that make you feel?"

"I don't care, I didn't have a relationship with them. Uncle Chad and Pat have always been like parents to me." She told him, moving to lay down on the sofa. "Is there a reason people lie down on these sofa's in therapy?" Maisie asked, glancing over at Ben.

"It helps relax people and can help the person open up as it feels less like a meeting."

Maisie hummed, looking up at the ceiling and resting her hands over her lower stomach. She fiddled with the sheer red material of her loosely knitted top — of which she wore a black vest underneath.

Ben watched the teenager. "Why don't you tell me about your hobbies, Maisie."

She sat and she thought. Ever since her death the year prior, Maisie had very little time to worry about the things she use to be good at.

Maisie use to love baking or designing stuff. The girl use to make her own clothes, and would still do so if she could.

She use to love redecorating but then she was killed whilst changing up her room. She still remembered the way the rubber man's hands gripped around her neck, chocking her until she no longer lived.

She remembered coming back as ghost and finding her uncles dead. She remembered crying in Chad's arms as he tried to comfort the tormented girl.

"I don't have any hobbies." She mumbled quietly. Her eyes came to a soft close as she steadied her breathing and reminded herself that she was safe.

"Why not?"

Maisie laughed dryly and shook her head. "Hobbies are just something we do to forget we are wasting away and how each breath, each tick of time is one more bit closer to the end."

Ben wanted to understand Maisie, but it seemed that she was struggling with something bigger them herself, something she wasn't bringing to the metaphorical table for them to discuss.

"Do you have any friends, Maisie?"

"I use too, until October of last year." Maisie answered almost instantly.

"So you're lonely?"

"It's hard to be lonely in a world so crowded."

Ben nodded, noting down a few things she had said prior. "What do you do when your sad."

Maisie pushed herself up to be sitting, tilting her head as she leaned forward. She stared at Ben. "I isolate myself as far away as possible. I become numb and I become selfish." She told him, shrugging her shoulders and leaning back to ease Ben. "People should be selfish more. Selflessness is a beautiful act, but it'spointless. People should think of their needs, because you never know when that opportunity will be taken away."

"Well said, Maisie. Are you selfish?"

Maisie shrugged. "Don't know, don't care. I like to think I'm selfish and selfless, a healthy mix off the two but maybe I'm neither."

Ben hummed, jotting down some more notes. "What do you want to do in the future?"

"I wanted to be a fashion designer or interior designer, with a side hobby of designing or helping design book covers. It sounds pretty fun, but I doubt I'll get around to it."

"Do you have a back up?"

"Work at the hotel nearby, the Cortez one. I did research on it a while ago, pretty interesting or rather an intense history." She told Ben.

"What about its history intrigues you?"

"It's creator is pretty interesting. It's history's pretty dark but so are most places. I mean the whole of America is built upon the bones of the natives and the slaves."

Ben nodded in agreement, interested by her outlook on life. "Your uncles said you've been having terrible dreams, why don't you tell me about them."

Maisie shook her head. "Let's wait until our next session, this one is coming to an end."

"Right, yes it is." Ben agreed as he looked at the watch on his wrist. "Well, we can end it now, there's only five minutes left."

Maisie nodded as the two stood up. She held her hand out. "Thank you, Ben Harmon." She said.

Ben took her hand and shook it. "Same time on Monday."

"Of course." She said, allowing him to guide her out of the office. "I can take myself from here." She smiled.