The Quiet Types

Chapter 1

"You're a smart girl, Lauren. You come from a good family. Why do this to yourself?" asked my psychiatrist as we sat in our monthly session.

I shrugged.

In reality, I never understood why I did the thing I did.

"Is it for attention?" she questioned and I looked up at her.

"No," I whispered as I folded my hands together.

"I've been seeing you almost a year now. You can trust me," she insisted.

I let out a heavy sigh. "You've said that thirty-two times now. Just because you repeat yourself doesn't make it any truer."

It was her turn to let out the sigh. "In that case, is there anything you want to bring up? You're usually pretty forward about discussing other things."

"I'm officially a senior next week. I'm going to a new school. I'm not sure I want to, but I am because my parents decided to move. They thought a change in environment might be good. I disagree. I no longer have a library on my corner or a coffee shop. My mother has decided to work half days and my father continues to travel despite the incidents that have occurred."

I hadn't realized I was digging my freshly manicured nails into my palms.

My mother thought it was a good idea to go get our nails done. A way to release some tension that had built up between us the past ten months. She had always made the comment about how my hands were so pretty when I actually took the time to take care of them. She used words like feminine and long every time she described them.

"Does that upset you, Lauren?" asked Dr. Felland.

I shook my head no.

"Your hands say otherwise," she pointed out as I stared down at the dark that sat on my nails.

"I'm just not happy with having to transfer at the very end of my high school career is all. I had excelled in my last school. I was nearly top of my class and having to start over wasn't in the plan."

"You are beautiful and intelligent. You'll adapt fine. You've grown since therapy and I believe you're strong enough to take any challenge that comes your way. Have you done anything to make me think otherwise?"

She was trying to bait me into a confession. She wanted to hear the answer she had been waiting for. She wanted to know if I was continuing to do the thing everyone dreaded most. She wasn't going to get the answer she was looking for. I refused to give it to her.

"No," I said shortly and folded my arms across my chest, "How much longer till our session is over?"

She glanced at her watch. "We have another fifteen minutes. How about we do one of our exercises? I won't be seeing you for another month and I want to make sure I send you away as prepared as possible."

"I think I'll be okay," I replied and she smiled warmly at me.

"Then this will be a breeze," she insisted, "Did you bring a rubber band with you today? If not I can go get you one from the drawer."

I showed her the hair tie around my wrist, "I brought my hair tie."

"So we're deescalating," she smiled as she looked up at me from my case file.

"I guess," I unwillingly agreed.

"Tell me about Will," she instructed.

She had blindsided me. We never started with Will. Will was the last thing we talked about when it came to this stupid exercise.

"Wh--what?" I stuttered.

I felt this sudden tingling underneath my skin. It wasn't even a tingling at this point. I felt like I was on fire.

"Will, Lauren. What comes to mind when I bring up his name?" she asked.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

I hadn't realized I was pulling on the band. It was as if it came naturally at this point. It was a habit that had become second nature and it was uncomfortable. Since starting my sessions with Dr. Felland, I had become more aware of my actions. I became more aware of everything actually. It made me uncomfortable in ways I refused to discuss. That's part of the reason I have had to continue my sessions.

"Can we discuss something else?" I questioned realizing she had been waiting for my answer.

"Lauren, it's okay. This is a safe space," she tried to reassure with putting her hand over the band, "Tell me about him."

"He died," my voice had grown cold, "He took his own life, but it didn't matter. He was a disappointment. He didn't continue with school. He chose to join the military. He changed and he never came back."

"Have your parents brought him up?" she asked.

I shook my head no.

"Why not?" was her next question.

"They're afraid that I'm going to end up like him," I said.

She frowned at my statement. "Do you think maybe it's because they're still grieving too?"

"No. They didn't even cry at his funeral. They made it clear that I was going to go to school, I was going to become someone and we were going to forget about Will. That's how we ended up with Billy," I snapped as I stood up.

I needed to feel some sort of relief. Unfortunately, the only relief I was allowed to have at the moment was the pathetic piece of elastic that sat around my wrist.

"You don't mean that, Lauren. You love both of your brothers."

"One's dead and they found a replacement."