All Monsters

Effy never understood why Psychiatrists believe ugly leather chairs are comfortable. They're rough, they tear easily, and every time you move it makes an annoying crinkling sound. Dr. Harmon sat across from her, reading through her file while she focused her attention to the floorboards. Effy heard him take in a deep breath and peered up to see him measuring her, deciding how to begin his “psychotherapy”. She waited patiently, looking out the bay windows and wondering why in the hell Anthea thought moving across the world, to a different world, was a good idea. Effy knew she must be desperate, but fucking hell. Dr. Harmon leaned forward, placing his elbows on his legs and his fists underneath his chin. Oh, please, Effy thought.

“Elizabeth. Why don't you tell me why you're here?” Effy rolled her eyes, bored with how textbook he was.

“You literally just read my file, Dr. I'm sure you've got it covered.” Dr. Harmon sighed, realizing how despite her small size and polite manners, she was going to be a difficult patient.

“Well then let me rephrase that. Why do you think you're here?” Effy stayed silent, watching his eyes study her intensely. Suddenly, she felt naked under his gaze, crossing her arms over her chest and turning her head. She peered over to the glass panes in his door, thinking she saw a flash of blond.

“Elizabeth...Ms. Stonem...Effy?” Her head snapped back to face him.

“Don't ever call me that.” Dr. Harmon put his hands up in defense, signaling to her that he was sorry for crossing a line. “Just Elizabeth.”

“Okay, just Elizabeth. Is there anything else I should know for our future sessions?” Effy spoke before she could fully understand the words shooting out of her mouth. Regret hit her first, but later was replaced with anger and indignation.

“Don't fall in love with me.” Dr. Harmon's brows knit together, genuinely bewildered. Unconsciously, he moved himself to the edge of his seat, sitting upright. Well this is new, he thought.

“I really don't believe that will be an issue, Elizabeth. Why would you say that?” Effy tilted her head while playing with loose threads on the hem of her sweater.

“Because the last psychiatrist I had did. He was the one who killed my boyfriend. I bet that wasn't in my file, right Doc?” Effy could feel the adrenaline racing underneath her skin. Her fingertips sparked with electricity as her face flushed red. Don't you fucking cry. Don't you dare. Effy turned in her seat to wipe away the tear that escaped. “I'm here, because my family thinks I'll try to off myself again. But I don't think I would. I don't want to hurt Panda or Tony again.”

“Tony is your brother.” Effy nodded. “Who is Panda?”

“Her real name is Pandora, and she's my best friend.”

“You seem to really care about the ones you love...So, if I may ask, why did you attempt suicide the first time?” Effy felt a crushing ache in her chest and mentally cursed at him. What kind of psychiatrist asks questions like that? You're not supposed to make me feel guilty, you twat.

“I believe our time is up, Doctor.” Effy grabbed her bag from the floor and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. Violet stuck her head out of her room, a concerned look on her face. Effy could tell that she was saying something and that Dr. Harmon was calling after her, but it wasn't registering in her brain. They were just a mess of incoherent noises. Once outside, Effy slowed down her pace, lighting a cigarette before walking in what she hoped to be the direction of her house.

“I'm going to die in fucking America. Fantastic.”