The Breeze [Tony Starks Daughter]

33. Getting Better

"And how does that make you feel?"

Are you kidding me? How many times has this woman asked me that exact question?

I heaved a sigh and looked at the woman as she attempted to peer into my soul through her thin brown glasses. Ms. Stanley sat across from me with her legs crossed and her brown hair twisted up into a tight bun. Her whole look screamed professional, but everything that came out of her mouth just sounded dumb.

I kept my face impassive - not even flinching an eyebrow as she began to question me. I was spread across a broad tan couch. Now that I thought about it, everything in the room seemed to be a shade of brown. The walls were brown; the flooring was brown, even the woman's suit was brown. I remember reading a book when I was a kid about what all of the colors meant.

Brown had meant:  Approachability, reliability, dependability, and friendliness.

I've never liked the color brown.

"Can I leave already?" I asked, turning my head to the door then back at her. "This really isn't necessary, and I'm just doing it to please my father."

Tony had asked me to promise I would go to therapy. Since I was in a horrible emotional state, I had not realized what that promise meant - That I would actually have to attend therapy.

And since Tony was, well, Tony, he had to get me the best of the best. Upon arrival, I had really noticed how much Tony was spending on my stupid therapy. The whole building was made of glass, and the place was decorated with the latest models, giving it a modern effect.  

I hadn't really talked to anyone after my little episode, including Tony. The men at the tower had all tried to get me to open up to them. 

It had been one week since my mental breakdown, and I had barely said a word to anybody. I had locked myself in the new room provided for me - since the other one had been torn apart by, well, me.

 I had only wanted to talk to Peter, but Tony wasn't allowing me to go to school till he knew I was better. I think the thought of not going to school was more stressful. Thinking about all of the homework and tests I would have to catch up on made me mentally exhausted.

"Skylar, you've already asked that." Ms.Stanely answered, bowing her head as she scribbled a few notes down. I look up in confusion and nodded. I guess I had already asked that. I had been to so many therapists in the last week that I had lost count. Every time I had gone to therapy, it had been someone new because every time I would either leave or they would leave because I was too much to handle, as one of my therapists had said.

"And you've already said no, so I was just seeing if you changed your mind." I stated quickly, wiping the confused look off my face as she looked up at me from her notebook.

Ms.Stanely grimaced at my attempt at a joke.

"So I've noticed this sarcasm, um joking, if you will. And I think this is just a classic way of you trying to push people away. I understand that help is a hard thing to become accustomed to in your, uh, position. But don't you think that you can trust these people?"