Facing Reality

“That’s a very pretty necklace you have on, Isabel.”

Isabel Matthews put her hand up to her neck absently and felt the cool silver chain that hung there. There was a small heart-shaped ruby enclosed in a white-gold frame hanging from the chain.

“Chris gave it to me.” She answered.

“Chris Delaney?”

“Yeah, who else?”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe your parents or an aunt or someone could have…”

“Or Dee.”

“What?”

“Deandra. She could have given it to me.”

“…Yes, yes she could have.”

“Why are you just now commenting on my necklace? I’ve been wearing it for a while now.”

“I know. I just wanted to check once more who had given it to you.”

“I’ve already told you!” Isabel stood up, angrily, yelling at her therapist. Her blue eyes were sparkling brilliantly, fierce. Her fire-red hair fell over her shoulders, in soft curls that bounced as she shook her head. Isabel couldn’t stand Dr. Wilson. He was always talking about the same stupid things. Why did she even have to be there in the stupid hospital? She didn’t feel sick, she felt fine. She missed Chris and Dee.

“Isabel, sit down, please.” Dr. Wilson said.

“Or what?” Isabel shot back. But it didn’t have much effect. Michael Wilson had amazing patience. He just looked at her, his light blue eyes boring into her behind his glasses, his hands folded neatly on his lap. She hated him and his stupid hands. They were always sitting there on his lap, neatly and patiently waiting for her to cooperate. She was tired of cooperating. Where did it get her? She was still here, still stuck in the same place, talking about the same things over and over. He never listened to her, not really. Why else would they be going through the same conversations? It was kind of creepy sometimes. She constantly had deja-vu because of this guy. And she always knew that it really had happened before, because Dr. Wilson liked to ask her the same questions and she always gave the same answers. Why would they change? What was he expecting from her? She glared at him. His clothes were wrinkled as usual, and his shock of black hair was combed neatly, making an odd and surprising contrast. Isabel suspected the hair was a toupee. He seemed too young to wear a toupee, as he was only in his early thirties, but the thought made her feel better in a petty way. You deserve to have premature hair loss. He was still waiting patiently.

            Finally, Isabel sat back down.

“Why can’t I talk to them?”

“Talk to who?”

Isabel felt completely frustrated. Why must he always act so stupid, like he had no idea who she was talking about, when he did?

“Chris,” she said through clenched teeth, “Chris and Dee.”

“You can. Anytime you want.”

“No I can’t. They can’t reach me here. You guys are keeping them from me.”

“Isabel, we do not restrict whom you can talk to or see unless they are potentially harmful.”

“Then how come it’s only my parents who call and visit me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ugh!” Isabel threw herself back on the couch, for she had somehow ended up on the edge.  Dr. Wilson looked at his watch.

“Isabel, I believe our session is over. I will speak to you tomorrow.” Isabel rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” She got off the couch and opened the door. The nurse, named Jill, was waiting to escort her back to her room.

 

 

“Hey, Jill?” Isabel asked when she got back to her room.

“Yes, Honey?” Jill was nice. She listened to what Isabel had to say. Unlike that stupid doctor they kept making her see.

“Do I really have to go back there tomorrow?”

“I’m afraid you do, Is.”

“But he isn’t doing anything for me. All he does is ask questions and make me answer them. No, he doesn’t even do that. If I refuse to answer him, he just sits there all silently until I finally give in.” Jill nodded.

“Yes, our Dr. Wilson is a very patient man.”

“He’s a very annoying man.”

“Well, Is, he does his job effectively.”

Isabel snorted.

“Effectively for who? Certainly not me,” Isabel stopped to think, and then said, “Why am I in here, Jill? What did I do wrong?” Jill patted Isabel on the shoulder tenderly.

“We all ask that, Isabel. But the truth is, we have to answer it ourselves. It doesn’t matter what any one else says. The answers are inside our hearts. We just have to find them.”

Isabel scowled. She knew Jill was trying to help her, but it didn’t do much.

“Thanks anyway, Jill.”

Jill laughed lightly and bid Isabel a good day before she closed and locked the door behind her.

 

            Isabel sat o her bed, trying to think. But she couldn’t do it. She had to write everything that was going on in her head down but she didn’t have anything to write it with and for some reason she was not allowed to have writing utensils in her room. She went over to the wall and pushed the buzzer.

            “I want to go to the common room! I need to write!” There was a click and then a voice,

“Isabel, you are currently not allowed to be in the common room.”

“What? Why not?”

“Dr. Wilson would like to see you.”

“Ugh!”  Isabel went and sat back down on her bed, heavily. Was once a day not enough anymore? Did he have to torture her every hour now? She just came from his office! She was thinking this and getting progressively more irritated when Jill came to bring her to him.

“Let’s go, Is,” she said, unlocking the door and letting Isabel out.

“What now?” Isabel asked. Jill said nothing, just looked at her, a grim look on her face. Finally they reached the office. Jill started to leave, and then hesitated.

“Ya know,” she said, “it’s not always such a bad thing. Having someone want to talk to you this much. It might just mean he cares.”

Isabel shrugged off her comment and went into the office.

 

 

 

            “Hello, Isabel.” Dr. Wilson said after Isabel closed the door behind her. She glared at him a little and sat down on the couch.

            “Hi,” she said in an unfriendly tone. She wanted a reaction out of him for once. She wanted him to lose his patience with her, to lecture her, to do anything but just sit there and ask the same questions requiring the same answers every time she came. She did think this time might be different than the others, since he called on her for the second time that day. But his face was just as unreadable as ever, so she still couldn’t tell if he might have had something new to say. His hands. They were still resting folded in his lap. Isabel stared at those hands, anger rising from inside deep inside her. She threw herself onto the couch and decided to refuse to talk until he addressed her the way she wanted to be addressed. She would just glare at him. After a few minutes, however, she gave up. It was no use. She was never going to get out of this place, not as long as this guy was her therapist. Neither he nor she was willing to budge his or her routine to make the other happy.

            “Is there a special reason you have called me here, Dr. Wilson?” Isabel asked, feeling as if all energy had drained from her body. She missed Dee. She missed her best friend. She also missed Chris. Oh, how she missed Chris.

“Yes, there is. I was wondering if you have gotten in contact with Mr. Delaney or Miss Halliway.” Isabel stared at the doctor.

“No,” she said, through almost clenched teeth, “I have not.”

“Have you tried?” Isabel opened her mouth to answer when she realized that, in fact, she hadn’t tried. Not in a few weeks. She had been so down about being locked up that she had not forgotten about them, not at all, but forgotten that it took some effort to actually reach them. That it would take more than just thinking about them and missing them to hear from them. Chris and Dee loved her, but they were not able to reach her if she didn’t reach them first. Especially since her parents seemed unwilling to tell them anything about where she was. Isabel thought that her parents blamed Deandra and Chris for her being in this place.

“I guess…I guess I haven’t,” she said, quietly, looking at the floor. Dr. Wilson smiled slightly.

“It’s okay, Isabel. I also wanted to talk to you about the relationship you have with your parents. Are things alright with them?” he asked. Isabel hesitated.

“Well…I love my parents, of course, but…”

“Sometimes it’s difficult, because you feel they do not support you, am I right?”

“Yes,” Isabel said, “they have started to tell me that I need to find new friends, and that maybe I should take a break from guys altogether. I don’t know why. Every time we argue about it, I ask them what they have against Chris and Dee, but they never have a real answer for me. They just…tell me it’d be better if I found some new people to hang around with and refuse to talk about it any further. It’s put a lot of stress on me, and it’s made me despise them a little bit. I know they might not understand, but Chris and Dee are my best friends. I don’t need anyone else, as long as I have them. But when I’m here…I don’t have them. I don’t have them, and I still don’t have my parents. It’s very lonely.” Isabel had not expected to tell Dr. Wilson as much as she just did. She looked down at her hands and played with her fingers so as to avoid his gaze. She knew he was looking at her, she could feel it. And why not? She had just been more cooperative in the past two minutes than she had ever been. She wasn’t sure what to say to him next; it wasn’t as if she ever really said much to him at all. Now that she had, she didn’t know whether she should keep going, or withhold again.

“Well,” Dr. Wilson said after a few minutes of silence, “I believe that will be all for today.” Isabel looked up at him.

“You mean, you don’t want to keep me here, to talk about this more?” She asked. A hint of a smile formed on Dr. Wilson’s lips.

“I don’t want to keep you here ever, Isabel. You did your part at this session, so you are not required to stay any longer than you want to.”

“Wait…so all this time, all I had to do was cooperate and talk to you to be able to leave?”

“That’s right. We do not force our patients to talk in therapy here. But if they do, they get much farther along in the process much faster.”

“Process?”

“Yes. The process of recovery. The process of release.”

 

When Jill came to get her, Isabel was in a much better mood. Jill looked at her, seeming a bit amused.

“Well,” she said, “it seems your meeting went well?” Isabel smiled at Jill.

“I just realized that being stubborn isn’t always the best way to handle things.” Jill smiled and put her hand on her shoulder.

“Good girl.” She said.

 

Isabel knew that something big had happened. The process of release. All she had to do was cooperate. He just wanted her to talk to him, and she would be free! Free to go back to her life as a writer, as a girlfriend, as a best friend. The thought comforted her. She went to bed well rested that night.

 

 

 

by XxStaraxX

Show Brief Description