Caged Mentality

POV: Khristos Larkin

“So, Mr. Larkin do you know why you were brought here today?” Dr. Carlin questioned, sitting on his desk, smiling softly at my father, who was glad to join me at my therapy session. I still didn't like the idea.

Dad shook his head no. “Kris didn't explain, just told me you thought it would be a good idea for me to come.” He paused, a concerned look on his face. He was worried about me. Of course. “There's nothing wrong with him is there?” Like I had some mental disease or something.

I rolled my eyes in irritation. “I already told you, I'm perfectly fine.”

“He has a bit of a temper. But I thought we'd analyze what could cause his built up anger.” Dr. Carlin paused, grabbing a pen off the desk and playing with it. “Most of his outbursts stem from you and his mother. Do you know why?” He gave me a momentary stare before focusing strongly on my father.

Dad stared at me, his eyes thoughtful. Trying to figure out how to word it, I assumed.

I grew impatient and answered for him. “Because he's a fucking pushover and gives mom whatever the hell she wants.”

Dad's gaze dropped to the floor, saying nothing in response.

“Why is that, dad?” I stood, glaring intensely at my father, my fists clenched at my side. He was really getting on my nerves. “Why don't you tell me and Dr. Carlin why the hell that is!”

“Calm down, Kris, this isn't the time for that!” Dad raised his voice only enough to sound authoritative. He never did yell at me, really, just raised his voice. I fell silent, knowing better than to disobey, but continued to glare at my father, waiting for his response. “I honestly don't know why I do it.”

“What a pathetic answer.” I spat.

“I think we all need to calm down a bit.” Dr. Carlin smiled. Like he had the right to tell me what to do, like he should even be hearing this at all. It was none of his business. “Mr. Larkin, I know you have good intentions and really want to help. However, he's angry about it all after dealing with this since he graduated. I understand you have a thirteen-year-old son. Should he be growing up in this kind of environment?”

“No...” Dad responded, his eyes still downcast. His voice was quiet; calm. “Kris, I know you think I'm catering to your mother's addictions, but I'm not.”

“Then where the hell is all your money?” I demanded angrily. “You're a pharmacist, for fuck's sake. You should have a nicer house than the shitty one you live in now, you should have nicer clothes, a bigger T.V., hell, you coulda bought me a better car than the rolling pile of junk I had to settle for because of my low income! You're buying her all of her drugs, alcohol, and cigarettes!”

“I've been putting away money to buy you and Roman a nice house to live in. So you won't have to worry about paying rent on your apartment, and Roman won't have to stay with your mother anymore.”

I froze, eyes wide, gaping at my father in shock. His response just wasn't registering. Did he really just say that? Was he being serious? A house... For just me and Roman... It sounded nice, too good to be true. And all this time I thought he was buying Mom's shit...

“I was trying to keep it a secret until I had all the money, but...i guess its better to just tell you now.”

“But...” I couldn't figure out how to respond. All this time, I'd thought wrong. “Curing mom's addictions is more important, don't you think?”

“Even if I forced her into rehab, there's a chance it wouldn't even cure her completely. Taking care of you and Roman is the better option.”

“It's important to know what are good and bad secrets. I think your eldest son should be informed of decisions like this. Your youngest doesn't need to worry about it.” Dr. Carlin commented. There he goes again, making himself a part of our conversation. It was annoying, but at the same time I didn't mind. Because it was him, I guess. “And then this is avoided. How do you feel now, Kris? Still angry?”

“I'm pissed he didn't tell me that sooner!” I responded, hands balled into tight fists again. I couldn't seem to keep myself calm.

“Kris, I'm sorry.” Dad said softly, standing and wrapping his arms around me warmly and apologetically. I just kept my arms at my sides. “But you know now.”

“Yeah, well,” I began, pushing Dad away. “I still think you shoulda just put mom in rehab instead.”

“Kris, this is a decision only for your mother and father to make. You need to calm down.” Dr. Carlin said softly, throwing a pen at me. I caught it. “I can suggest people she could see to help her. But if she wants no part of it then it won't make a difference, Kris. Use reason here, not impulse.”

I gritted my teeth, throwing the pen at the wall with as much force as I could manage. “Someone needs to do something. She needs to get better. Roman deserves to have a decent mother.”

“I know he does, Kris, you both do. I'll deal with her once you and Roman get that house. It's going to take time.” Dad informed.

“I think it's clear family communication needs some work.” Dr. Carlin sighed as he picked up the pen. “I'm happy that I get to work with your son. I just hope I can help him.” He said, though he sounded very confident that he could help me. Help me... What the hell? What was I, some disabled kid? “Kris, you should sit and calm down. If you like you can try and bring your mother with you sometime. I don't deal with addictions, but, maybe it could help you.” Dr. Carlin suggested with a smile. He stood and walked over to me. “Calm down.” He placed his hand on my back gently, attempting to calm me down I guessed, but it felt more comforting than calming.

I stared at the floor, calming myself, but didn't sit down. I didn't want to move, mainly because I liked the feeling of his hand on me, as weird as that was to me. I kept silent, letting the new information sink in completely. I wasn't sure how to feel at the moment.

“Thank you, Dr. Carlin,” My father began with a kind smile, “I'm happy Kris got such a good therapist. I'm sorry for whatever trouble he's caused with his outbursts.”

“No troubles at all. He's not all that bad. But I am used to dealing with people who have emotional problems and social ones.” Dr. Carlin motioned for me to sit, though he didn't remove his hand from my back. “You can shove everything on my desk on the floor and sit there if you want.” He laughed.

“Maybe I just don't want to sit down.” I crossed my arms.

“I see. Well, it's good he hasn't punched any holes in your wall.” Dad chuckled lightly. He'd quickly forgiven me for every hole I'd punched in his wall, and he could now look back on it and laugh.

“He wouldn't be the first to.” Dr. Carlin chuckled as he sat on his desk. “I'm sure we'll figure out the source of his anger. If Kris lets me.”

“We'll see.” I moved to lean against the wall. “I don't like therapy, and I definitely don't like the whole bring-dad-too idea. We don't have to do this again, do we?” I asked hopefully, staring at Dr. Carlin.

“No. it's up to you what we do, Kris. To a point anyway. Maybe it'll be easier when you know me more.” The doctor shrugged. “Though, you already know me more than anyone in this building. Unless my friends walk in.” He smiled, writing on his clipboard. “I hope you'll let me know you more so I can help you the best I can.”

“So is that a dismissal? Can I go now?” I questioned impatiently. I had better things to do than sit here with my therapist and my father.

“Don't be so rude, Kris.” Dad ordered.

“Am I ever anything other than rude?” I rolled my eyes.

“It's fine, Mr. Larkin. I'm used to it. I take no offense.” Dr. Carlin opened the door. “You can leave. I look forward to next Wednesday. I hope you'll be less upset. Have a good week.”