I Need a Hero Soon | Completed

□ Chapter 6 □

□ Steve Heart □
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□ Discussions and Theories □

I write down what my patient is telling me. Her hair is greasy with natural oils, and there's a zit on her nose. Her eyes are too close together and are a disgusting shade of green. Her eyebrows are bushy, and she has a tiny mustache above her upper lip. She has a fake tan, which is quite obvious, but she doesn't care.

Her voice is raspy like she'd been smoking before she arrived. I wish she'd spend more time working on her face and hair instead of her body. Most people go by first impressions, and this woman is no exception. It's very clear that she wants most guys to pay attention to her body. If she wants men to think she's cute, she should spend time on other parts of her.

I listen closely to what she's saying, and I force myself to not roll my eyes. Her problems are not major. Guys walk away when she gives them "bedroom eyes". "Why don't men like me?" she whines, sniffling. Snot drips from her nose like she'd eaten something spicy.

I'm at a loss for words. What do I say to help her? "Fix up your appearance," I suggest slowly. The woman wipes her nose on her shirt sleeve, confused at my statement. "Maybe wax your mustache and eyebrows, pick at the zit on your nose, and wash your hair," I add, hesitating.

The woman smiles, thanking me, leaving at last. That was a long hour. Too long. I wasted an hour of my life talking to this woman. Oh, well, it's over now.

I think I have a few gray hairs from listening to her. I clock out and head home, feeling exhausted. When I decided to become a therapist as well as a doctor, I didn't think it'd be this hard. It's been difficult without seeing Harry. I'm quite certain that Noah manipulated Harry once again.

I said "again" because this isn't the first time Noah pulled this bullshit. I remember one session when Harry was convinced that everyone would hate him because of his ability. Noah had a hand in making Harry think that. I think that Harry's parents may have contributed to Harry having that insecurity in the first place. Being locked in your room for thirteen years really changes your way of thinking.

"Harry, you're not a monster. You're not an ice freak," I said as he wiped a few tears away. His hazel green eyes were full of unshed tears, and he tried to calm himself down. If he didn't have control over his powers, he could've hurt someone. He and I were the only two people in that room, and I didn't want to get hurt. I wasn't scared of him; I felt bad for him.

He had to live with the knowledge that he'd never be truly normal, that he had a strange ability he didn't understand. Harry sniffled, blowing his nose. I couldn't think of anything to say to help him. "Yes, I am. Everyone thinks I'm just a stupid ice freak," he sobbed. "Even you."

That last sentence broke my heart. He thought I hated him. Harry left when our hour was up, shutting the door on his way out. I placed my face into my hands and cried softly. No patient had ever affected me the way Harry did.

His story was—and still is—a heartbreaking one. He shouldn't be going through this much pain and fear. He deserves happiness. I told him once that he should create his own happiness. My advice was lost in his mind.

When I go home, Reginald has set the table and is cooking dinner. "Walked slowly?" Reginald teases as I sigh tiredly. "Don't be an old man as soon as I get here," he continues. I slump into my chair and rub my forehead with my thumb and forefinger. I can't deal with this right now.

"Reg, not now, okay?" I ask, more harsh than I intended. Reginald turns the heat to low and sits down with me. His eyes says plainly: "What's wrong?" I don't want to tell him. Eventually, I answer, "Everything's wrong. Harry doesn't want to be my patient anymore. I suspect Noah had a hand in that. His mental state is far beyond saving. I have to deal with patients that come to me with problems that matter little in this world. This job is draining, and it hurts like Hell to talk about issues that plague someone."

Reginald only listens. "Cuz, I'll tell you something. Do you remember that email chain about the girl who wanted to commit suicide by jumping off the main building of my high school?" he asks. I nod, unsure of where he's going with this. "I climbed up there and talked her out of it. I saved her life. She's grateful to this day," he adds. I only sit there in stunned silence.

"Sometimes, all a person needs is someone who'll just listen and not offer advice or help. That's what Harry needs. He doesn't need a therapist. He needs a friend," he says. I nod again as he stands up and checks on dinner. "I think we should invite Noah and Harry to a night out or something," he suggests. "If Noah is as bad as you say, I'd love to see how he acts in public," he says and chuckles. I chuckle as well.

"Yeah, me too," I agree. I call Harry, but Noah picks up the phone. My voice is cold. It's never been cold before. "Hello, Noah. I'd like to meet with you to discuss dinner plans sometime this weekend," I say.

"This Saturday? I'll check with Harry," Noah says with venom in his tone. I hear footsteps on the other line, so I assume Noah's going to talk to Harry about my idea. There's quiet chatting, but I can hear Harry say, "It's your decision, love," as if Noah made the final choice. I grit my teeth in irritation at Noah's behavior when Noah comes back onto the line. "It's a date. 6:30 at The Dance Palace," confirms Noah, hanging up before I can reply.

I put the phone down, confused and a bit angry. Noah can't control Harry like this! He can't! Reginald and I eat dinner in silence, both of us too tired to speak. I won't tell my cousin about the oddness of the call, but I'll regret it later.

I hope you all enjoyed chapter six. If you have any questions, ask me in the comments, on my message board, or over PMs. I struggled with this chapter as well.