Letters From the Dead

Session One

I stare at my supposed new therapist blankly, not even being able to feel any emotion. It's been nearly a month since I've left that cursed house that I was held in, my parents and sister held within the confines of the house that never had any joy. We didn't get out a lot and only had our basic needs met.

"How are you feeling today? " She asks me. I can't even remember her name. I look at the name tag on her shirt 'Dr. Love' what a stupid name.

"Fine," I reply shortly, no emotion in my voice at all. It feels so foreign to me after going 16 years being verbally and physically abused and being forced to learn not to express anything that would lead to me getting hit. I had learned to mask any emotions or feeling that I may have been feeling.

"How's living with your aunt?" She asks.

"I don't like being a burden to her." I say blankly. "She's very kind to me and is trying her hardest to make sure I'm happy, but I feel guilty because she doesn't need to spend any more time on me, or any money, than she already has"

"How does it make you feel that she has money to spend on you?" She asks.

I don't answer her question. "I don't want to talk anymore. Please let me out."

The therapist, whose name I still don't care about, is a bit surprised and starts to argue, "But Elijah, I think that we can work something out"

I stare blankly at the ground. "I'm sure that you're right. Now I think your session is over"

"Elijah, I am your therapist. It doesn't end until I say it ends and you aren't getting out of it today." She argues. I give a heavy sigh and stare at her. "Do I look like I give a fuck what you want?" I ask her and start to limp my way over to the door. I start to open it before she locks it from where she sits at her desk and puts a piece of paper into a file and gets up, coming over to the door and blocking my escape. I narrow my eyes at her. "You have no right to keep me here against my will. You are no police officer." I tell her, my voice growing angry. "Move before I make you move." She ignores me, looking me in the eye, and she gets into my personal space.

I'm about to tell her one last time before I see her expression and then look away, closing my eyes and take a deep breath in and out before I turn around and head back to the chair that I sat down on, not saying anything.

She seems pleased that I listened to her and walks back over to her seat and sits down. "How do you feel when someone tells you that they don't want to listen to what you're saying and refuse to let you leave?" she asks. I give a sigh again before speaking. "Annoyed, pissed off, tired, bored, I don't know what else I should feel"

I have scars and burn marks on my body. I catch her staring at all of them.

"Take a picture. It'll last longer," I remarked angrily.

She gives me a shocked expression before putting a note down and continues.

I'm still looking down. My eyes narrowed at her. "Are we almost done?" I asked her angrily, she gives me a warning look and I roll my eyes at her before turning my head to look back down again. "Fine." I said shortly, looking at my phone for the time.

"Have you done any of your schoolwork?" she asks me. I scoff a laugh, not looking up. "No, I'm still in school."

"Have you?" I ask her and she seems annoyed at that, her pen clicking and then she scribbles something down. She is trying so hard not to seem mad, but she isn't doing a good job of hiding it. I roll my eyes and she gives me an angry glare, and I turn my head back down. I hate talking to this lady. She's just too full of herself. "I want you to do me a favour. I want you to go and talk to the other patients here. They have lost a family member and have gone through the same things that you have. It's always good to talk to other people about the same. situation."