The noisy hums of the air conditioner pierce the delicate glass of silence, leaving a big hole of uncomfortable feelings raw and lonely. Patricia sat on the burgundy couch; her fingers folded neatly and sat on her laps. She was a lovely girl, just blossomed into the beautiful age of 17. A teenager like her was hard to come by, because of her maturity. Growing up with hard blows left her stronger and emerged from others as a character of strength. I looked at her, tapping the tip of my pen repeatedly on my chin. She was clearly upset, even though her sweet smile was kept plastered on her face.
We didn’t speak at first. Outside the four walls of my little office, audible shouts and screams of laughter continued. Patricia looked from my face to the frame on the coffee table. She propped up her elbows and watched the picture, analyzing the scenery and the faces. She looked up again and returned that sweet smile onto her face. ‘Sometimes I think the world’s not really one world, if you get what I mean.’ she said, her gaze flickered from me back to the picture.
‘No, I don’t get what you mean.’ I replied, uncrossing my legs and putting the pen onto the coffee table. She looked up again, her grey eyes staring at me as if she couldn’t believe her ears. She gave a soft laugh, ‘Of course you wouldn’t understand. There are some experiences that people like you have never believed before. I’ve been through all of it.’ she waved her hand in the air. I didn’t speak because she didn’t require any words spoken by me.
She lifted the picture and clasped her fingers onto the silver frame. ‘Do you believe in moving on, without whatsoever trace or remembrance of your past? Can that really happen?’ she raised her eyebrows at me, expecting an answer. This time, I spoke. ‘Of course I do. That’s what we need to do, that’s what humans need to do, whenever disaster strikes.’ Patricia looked at me incredulously. ‘Counselor, I don’t think that’s the answer.’ She had boldness instilled in her, I thought, slightly amused. ‘Was I supposed to give you the answer you want?’ I thought she would go red, but she gave me a firm yes.
‘You don’t know anything about my past. If we switched places, I have no doubt that you will say moving on from such disasters is impossible,’ she said and lowered her voice into a soft whisper, ‘because you would have felt the worst, and it haunts you from day to day…’ I decided to control the conversation now, or else, this girl, strong as she was, will break down. ‘Tell me about your past.’ my voice was firm, but she was smiling at me with a smirk. She spoke again, with bold and bravery, ‘You have no right to know my past.’ I was rather taken aback, but I didn’t show it. I could have easily told her she was being rude to a teacher and should be severely punished, but I didn’t. ‘Let’s play a game,’ I announced. She looked rather amused. She nodded quietly. ‘Stand up.’ I commanded. She stood up. ‘Take my hands.’ I said again, she took my hands.
‘We’re switching worlds now. From babyhood till now. Alright?’ she nodded, her steely gaze making me hesitant. She had such influence, even by a single flicker of her eyes, i thought as I gripped harder on her hands. ‘Tell me something about when you were a baby, we will exchange and keep this going until we reach the present time.’ She nodded again, obviously curious of this little game. ‘When you say something, look me in the eyes and refer your memories as if they were mine. Do not give any hint that these memories are your own.’ I said again.
She breathed in hard and spoke, ‘Your mother died giving birth to you.’ I could feel the emotion in her voice. She had dealt with grief, even when she was so young. It was my turn. ‘Your father was disappointed that you were a girl, rather than a boy he had wanted.’ She struggled with the second one. ‘Your father raised you up.’, her voice sounded constricted. ‘Your grandmother threw a party for your first birthday and invited all the relatives.’
‘You were raised in a farm.’ Patricia said.
‘You sleep with a German Shepherd every night till you were five.’
‘You hated your father.’
‘The German Shepherd died before your fifth birthday.’
We went on and on, until we reached the age of seven. By then, she was cracking beneath the exterior. ‘You found your best friend.’ she said, stifling suspected sobs, pretending she had a runny nose. I said a few more of my memories, all seeming rather meaningless. She spoke again, this time, not hiding her grief and pain, ‘You lost your brother to drug abuse…’ her voice trailed off and she sank onto the couch, her hands hiding her face as tears flowed freely. ‘Stop it…’ she whispered, ‘This game is useless, you were just trying to get me to tell you about everything.’ she removed her hands and looked very red in the face, anger boiling up. Before I could answer, she screamed at me. ‘WHAT DID YOU EXPERIENCE THAT MEASURED UP TO MINE?’
I was stunned. She looked at me with so much hurt and hatred, that I took a step back from her. She calmed herself and said quietly, as if unaware of her sudden outburst, ‘You don’t know heart break and pain…you haven’t dealt with the worst.’ I sat down beside her and muttered, ‘I lost both my parents in a car crash when I was eight.’ Patricia looked up at me, her face clearly showing surprise. She shrugged the look off and stared into blank space.
‘Patricia, I am an orphan.’ I said quietly, feeling my emotions weighing on my chest, heavier before. She wiped her eyes and looked at me again. ‘You don’t look like them…’ she said, referring “them” as grieving people. I wiped my misty eyes hastily, and said in a quiet voice, ‘That’s because I moved on.’
She bit her lip and sat in silence. ‘I’m different!’ she said, tears pouring down her beautiful face. ‘I can’t move on…it’s too hard.’ I patted her shoulder lightly. ‘Nothing’s too hard.’ I said, wrapping my arms around the sobbing Patricia.
Patricia beamed at me and kissed my cheeks. ‘It’s so good to see you.’ she said hoarsely, remembering of our emotional session. I hugged her and squeezed her hand in mine. She looked radiant. She still had her bold flair. She changed a lot since her session with me twenty years ago. She wrapped me into an embrace again, whispering into my ear, ‘Thank you.’
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