Finding Sloane Winters Crazy

Sloane Erin Mallory Winters
Currently in therapy
Confused

I don’t know why people lie.

Sure, I lie all the time, but it’s because it’s fun, not for the sake of keeping a teenage girl from going into a burst of tears and spilling out all her troubles.

But that’s what the shrink wants me to do.

Help me through my problems.

That’s why my father was spending shitloads of money on ‘talk’ sessions with the fat beady woman before me, on top of the ridiculous tuition fee of my private school, the essentials for our survival (ie. Food, water, clothes, a house) and my outlandish spending habits.

“It isn’t your fault.” She says.

My eyes narrow, that’s the sixth time she’s mentioned that word in forty five minutes.

“I know it’s not my fault.” I murmur breezily. I’m not stupid.

She writes something in her leather notebook, she has a whole stack of them on her pristine desk, undoubtedly each one with a patient’s name, with her narrow minded assumptions and her ways to make me heal.

Heal from what?
The death of my mother?
That happened four years ago.
From leukaemia, a slow, painful death.

I use to visit her everyday in the hospital, she looked so pale, so sick, so weak.
But she was still the same, acting all strong, making jokes with me, trying to make me feel better about the upcoming death.

But I should’ve been making her feel better.
Then she died.

I’ve healed from it already, at least; I think. With the help of a massive inhale of cookie dough, sappy romance flicks, and arguments with friends.

Maybe I did need to heal.

“Are you sure?” Dr Olendzki asks, and my eyes are nearly slits.

“Of course I’m sure.” I mutter through gritted teeth. My nails immediately digging into my arm.
She smiles, glad to see a reaction out of me, she wants me to snap, she wants me to tell her about the pain, she wants me to tell her about my friends, school, my eating habits, my art, Xavier College, social gatherings, favourite books, Teak Richardson.

I won’t tell her about Teak.
I swear to myself.
But I do anyway.

“There’s this guy,” I blurt out, not thinking.

Doc smiles at me encouragingly, urging for me to go on, “And what about him? Does he go to that school you’ve moved temporarily to? Xavier?”

I nod reluctantly, wishing I kept my tongue.

“What do you think of him?”

“I…” I start thinking of my first impression of him, I purse my lips, “I think… he’s dangerous.”
She raises an eyebrow that she obviously drew on, “How so?”

“His appearance, the way he talks, that glint in his grey eyes, I—“

I stopped. Oh God. I rarely paid attention to boys before, but I knew Teak Richardson’s eye colour?

“Hmm?” she mumbles, scribbling into her notebook, “Do you like him?”

“Romantically?” I splutter, my hands moving in the air, before I stop them, and sit on them, feeling the smooth plush velvet.

Smooth.
Smooth like his voice.

She nods, and I think, before saying, “I’ve only talked to him about once, but there was this time that I wished him and his friend luck for some music comp, but that wasn’t a real conversation and…”

“Yes?” Doc inquires, realizing that I had trailed off.

I remember looking up at her, her brown eyes scrutinizing me, and I feel naked in her intense gaze, like she can see right through me. See the feelings I developed.
The feelings I developed for Teak.

Then finally I say firmly, “Something’s telling me to stay away from him.
“I think…
“He’s going to hurt me in the end.”