Lost without You

The waves crept slowly to the shore.
I giggled as you whispered about the ocean being just like me.
Not a morning person.
Even though your board was tied to the roof of the car there was nothing to ride.
So you just sat with me in the cold.
Toes in the sand.
And we watched the ocean.

I didn't know I had fallen asleep until my mom woke me up.

I wish she hadn't.

The pain in my neck was nothing compared to the empty that was inside, but I still managed to peel myself off me desk and make my way to the shower. The cold woke me up more then I wanted it to but I quickly washed me hair, scrubbed down, and shed a few tears before stepping out and wrapping myself in a towel.

I could only avoid the letter and gather clothes to wear for the day before changing.

On the way down to the kitchen my mom called me to the living room where she stood by the door.

"Yeah?"

The look in her eye was somewhere between guilt and indecision and I was more afraid then intrigued.

"Lets go to breakfast."

The lie was startling from her mouth but I agreed, afraid any protest would break her more.

So we ended up in out little Toyota driving to town; my moms hands gripping at the steering wheel as though it was Christian and I sat quietly, not even able to fidget from the sudden energy loss.

When we passed the only restaurant that my om ever ate at my fear was confirmed, just what I was afraid of wasn't really deciphered.

And that scared me more then anything.

And then it happened, she pulled into a parking lot slowly, easing the car into a parking space and shutting it off.

She wouldn't look at me and I couldn't look at her because my eyes were glued on the front of the building.

Or more so the sign that was there.
And the words in bold on that sign.

COUNSELING AND PSYCHOLOGY

At that moment I was more afraid of opening the door then of dying.

---

"Would you just listen?'

"No! I'm not staying. I'm not going to see a shrink."

That came out in more of a hiss then I had intended it to.

"Well I think that you need to--"

"You think I need what!?"

My anger was rising with my voice, and I knew that this would be a lost battle. But that didn't mean I wouldn't put up a fight.

We were sitting in a waiting room about the size of my grandma's living room and almost as tackily furnished. The uncomfortable couch that my mother and I were on was a sea foam green color with coral and pink flowers, the pair of chairs on both walls not taken up by a glass window with a girl sitting behind it picking at her nails with a pen were the same nauseating pink color with white arms and legs.

The walls were another story. Coral and covered in pictures of the seaside, the colors that you knew and loved turned into hideous pastel paintings in contrasting colors.

I just hoped the 'counselor' was more modern then the furniture.

"I just think you need someone who can help."

My mom's voice startled me. I hadn't been paying attention, just fuming silently so the whisper had side struck me nicely.

And when I looked at her I knew that she honestly thought this was the best thing, though it could only be located on the "Things Not to Let Your Children Do" list, jammed nicely between 'play in traffic' and 'lick lead paint'.

I would have given another poor attempt to comfort and yet disagree if a man about forty hadn't stepped through the door and announced my name.

"Jennifer Tylers."

Shit.

I stood and moved away from my trembling mother and through the door that the man had stood at, following him three steps behind and into an office, one of four doors in the coral hallway.

The door clicked behind me and I slowly felt all the oxygen start to filter out of the room.

Double shit.

"Have a seat Jennifer."

The man was tall and thin, a full head of graying brown hair on his head and a set of black rimmed glasses on his nose. The navy button up shirt he wore tucked into the khaki dress pants reminded me of some kind of sailor.

"So, first off, I'm George Callen. You can call me George if you like, or Dr. Callen if you don't."

His smile was genuine. Odd.

"So Jennifer, why are you here today?"

The Jennifer thing was getting harsh, I hadn't heard it said so many times since I was little and wormed my way into trouble more often then naught.

"You can call me Jenna and I'm here because my mother ambushed me and forced me to come."

It was mostly true. And it was the most that I had said to someone in a long time.

Stupid counselors, good at getting people to talk.

He laughed softly, shaking his head slightly at me choice of words.

"So you don't want to be here?"

The question took me by surprise. No, I didn't want to be in the position to be here but as of right now George was pretty okay.

I mean, I had seen so many movies where the counselors office depicted bald men dressed sharply in suits and sitting in ominous leather chairs as someone laid on the chaise lounge and told their life memories, the little bald man 'mmhm'-ing and jotting notes. That and the ultimate line "And how does that make you feel?". But this was nothing like that.

He must have seen my eyes go blank because he moved slightly, my attention focusing again.

"It's not that." I mumble more then spoke the words, slightly shocked that my brain was now a traitor.

He nodded, seemingly interested.

"So what is it?"

Again another question that I didn't know how to answer.

But instead of analysis, panic filled my mind and flooded my senses. It must have showed.

"Now Jenna, I want you to understand a few things, ok?"

He paused for a moment, waiting for some sort of acknowledgment. I nodded.

"First, anything that you tell me can't be told to anyone else unless it's about you or someone else being hurt. Second, you don't have to answer the questions if you don't want to, we can talk about anything that you want to, alright?"

Another pause and another nod.

"So, lets start again. How are you today?"

This I could handle. Hopefully counselors aren't trained in lie detection.