Mickey had to come back once a week and every time he seemed a little more comfortable although it was clear that he never felt at ease when he talked to her. Still, they made a lot of progress. It was slow but he opened up to her step by step. With every swear word, every insult and every curse she knew a little more. He never told much, almost every question she asked got her an answer that was barely one sentence long. But she knew he was trying. She saw it in his alert eyes and clenching fists, felt it when he took some time to answer, searching for the right words. Sometimes it made her heart ache to look at this broken guy she got to know more and more as she heard about his past. A past most of which was absolutely terrible. After almost five months he had told her about the countless times his father had beat him and his siblings up, drug runs starting at the age of ten, angry teachers who were happy when he finally dropped out of high school, several stays in detention center and his four years in prison. There was only one thing they never talked about. Love.
Whenever she dared to ask about that topic Mickey shut down completely, telling her this was none of her fucking business. But she never missed the way his eyes lightened up a little bit as he said that. She figured there was someone he really loved he just didn't want to talk about it.
Today it was their last meeting before he would be released. Still, he would have to see her regularly which he was pissed about but she knew the time after the hospital would be the hardest. Having to adjust to life again, getting through the struggles paralysis comes along with.
In order to manage this properly he needed people to be there for him, people he could trust so the plan for today was speaking about the topic they had avoided so far, whether Mickey liked it or not. "Hey Mickey." She greeted as he entered the room and took his usual spot in the corner.
"Hey."
She placed her mug on the armrest of her chair and placed her notebook on her lap.
"How are you today?"
"Okay." That was good. There had been answers like "shitty", "I don't know", "bad" or "not good". He had been okay about three times before and those sessions had been the ones where they made the biggest progress.
"Still getting released tomorrow?"
"Yeah."
"Excited?"
He shrugged. "I guess?"
She reached for the black box on the coffee table and opened it.
"Pick a quote." She said as she put the paper on the table.
"Thought we've done that."
"Yes, but I want you to do it again."
He sighed but leaned forward and looked at all the sayings in front of him. She had to wait almost fifteen minutes until he picked one. It was "Monsters don't sleep under your bed. They sleep inside your head."-Anonymous. Her fingers clenched around the pen she was holding.
"Why that one?" She asked , trying to sound casual.
"Just kinda agree."
"Do you feel like you have monsters sleeping inside your head?"
He shrugged. "Sometimes." And after a little pause he added: "That's not why I picked it though."
"Well, why did you then?"
He hesitated but finally said: "Ian."
"Ian?" That was a new name, someone she hadn't heard about before but the way Mickey said this name told her it belonged to someone important.
