Little Game

Chapter 22

"How are things?"

The little girl looked away with a heavy heart. She didn't want to talk but this person was making her talk. She didn't need help but this person wants to help. She wants to be left alone and this person doesn't just leave her alone.

Plus, this person ask the things that the little girl feels too miserable to answer. Just the thought of answering him makes her have goosebumps.

But, she doesn't want to be mean. This person was her daddy's 'friend' and her father told her that his said friend will help her with all of her fears and problems. Well, the fears are still there but at least it isn't as intense as it was before.

So, Isabella's sulking because she always have to meet mister helper-slash-friend-of-her-papa every twice a week. She thinks that the person is called a shrink.

But, she doesn't know what this so-called shrink is, which makes her all the more upset.

"S' fine." Isabella answered sweetly, not wanting to be rude to the doctor.

The doctor looked at her dubiously before writing something. "Any recurring nightmare, Miss Sofia?"

Isabella never liked to be called Sofia. Her second name's only used when she has to do or follow something urgent or she'd done something incredulously wrong to be worth to be called by her second name.

Hearing the said name just brings her shivers, thinking automatically that she'd done something terrible.

Isabella glanced at Mister Shrink with a scrutinizing gaze before looking back at the clock behind the mister. Only ten minutes left and she'll be able to leave. Only ten minutes left.

"Mhmm," Isabella conceded but then she immediately panicked, her eyes blowing wide, "b-but only sometimes now. I don't get them always." She said for honesty's sake. It's true, though. She doesn't get nightmares as much anymore ever since she started meeting with her doctor. But, that doesn't mean that she likes talking to the man, she just believes that the doctor is really working his magic on her.

His eyes crinkled up in amusement at her sudden change of answer. It was obvious that he liked her honesty.

"I see." He writes again.

Isabella leaned against her comfy chair with a slight pout on her lips. He looks at her again, trying to hide his smile with a fake cough, his hand immediately rushing forward to cover his mouth.

"Excuse me, my lady." He says, covering his smile with his hand.

Isabella sulked more.

"Anyways," he cleared his throat, getting all professional once again. "Do you sit with your family and talk about the problems you're facing?"

Isabella wanted to give a strained whine  because she knows where this was going. It happens all the time that she's not even surprised anymore. This was why she hates attending his appointments. The man always puts her most hated words last.

Isabella tried to protest but her words fell on deaf ears.

The doctor gave her a pointed look.

Isabella crossed her arms, not wanting to complain about not wanting to talk anymore.

"I didn't do anything..." Isabella answered slowly, carefully, as if her words would be caught in a fire that the man is starting to create with her.

"You didn't do anything? Nothing at all?" He didn't sound like he believes her or maybe he does and she's just convincing herself that he doesn't believe her. He then took off his glasses to chew the left temple tips of it. It's a habit of his, Isabella had observed before. "You didn't chat with your brothers? With your father? How about that bodyguard of yours? Who was it again?"