Down The Rabbit Hole [Solo]

Light green eyes stared up at the ceiling as the girl waited for her therapist to get back from an emergency session. It wasn’t like Dr. Trammell to be late for a session with a client, but apparently one of his patients needed him desperately so he needed to step out for a moment. "The person probably took an attempt at their life." The words were barely audible, the fact that she was speaking not actually registering in the girl's mind. Isabelle couldn’t help but think thoughts like that. From what she knew about Dr. Trammell, he was a specialist in adolescent psychology. The person he was attending to now was probably a teenager whose parents were forcing them to attend therapy. Parents who, like her own, thought that they were doing what was best for their child.

Laying there on the couch, Isabelle let her mind wander a bit. Normally their sessions started off with her telling Trammell how her past week has been. Normally, she would say that nothing has changed, but that wasn’t true this time around. She had run into another one of those things; the monsters that people were trying to convince her she had made up. But if they weren’t real, then why was there a disgusting stain from the thing’s blood on her favorite pair of jeans. If the man she had pictured was just a part of her imagination, then how was he able to give her a real sphere that she carried with her wherever she went? She could explain what happened to her therapist; show him the sphere even; but would he believe her? Would he even give her enough time to explain before calling her father? “I can’t tell them. They wouldn’t understand.” The words barely slipped out of her mouth as she lifted an arm to cover her eyes.

“Who wouldn’t understand?” As the sound of the man’s voice passed into her ears, she couldn’t help but feel her body tense. Lifting her arm from her eyes, they looked over to the man who was standing in the doorway. How long had he been standing there without her noticing him? How long had he been watching her without making his presence known? “Do you do that to all of your patients? Watch them without them knowing?“ Her voice sounded a bit skeptic; hurt even. It was a known fact that it was her father forcing her into these sessions, but she had been open with each of her previous therapists in the past and it had gotten her nothing but more medication. Watching the man grimace a bit, she couldn't tell if he was grimacing because he had invaded her privacy in such a manner or grimacing because she had said something about it. If the man was trying to give her a sense of trust; this was not the way to approach it. “I can’t help you if you won’t open up to me Isabelle. You can trust me.” In her mind, the words sounded as though they had been spoken a million times before. He had probably spoken them to each one of his patients in a hope that they would tell him more than they were originally willing.

Sitting up, the girl realized that she didn’t want to be there and she wasn’t fooling anyone by saying that she was willing. How had she deluded herself into thinking that being here was helping her? How had she deluded herself enough to make her stop trying to run from the things and look them straight into their jagged teeth? How had she deluded herself into thinking that if she confronted them… They would go away? Curling her legs into her chest, she just stared at the man, it had to be completely obvious that she was feeling some type of contempt towards him. He was just like the ones that visited her at the hospital; he thought she was crazy and a danger to herself.

“Are you feeling well? Shall we start?” She could hear the concern, but that wasn’t what she wanted. His voice. His voice was the one that had been in her head that night. How could she open up to someone when she felt as though he was one of the people who was messing with her mind?

I almost died because of you. For a moment, the girl just sat there and stared at the man in front of her. Trust? Was that really what he wanted from her? Sure… It was the idealistic option. People generally felt like their lives would be easier if they followed what their superiors were saying. People generally thought that a child should listen to the adults around them, but they were wrong. In this case… They were wrong. “How am I supposed to trust someone who thinks I’m crazy? You say that I can tell you all of these things; that everything we’re doing here is helping me, but really the only thing it’s doing is wasting time.” The words were said as the girl averted her gaze. She wasn’t going to be a puppet anymore.

That man had given her a choice and she had chosen to fight… She had chosen to think for herself… To take her future into her own hands.

“You think our sessions are a waste of time?” Judging by his tone, the girl couldn’t tell if the man was happy she had told him that. He wanted her to be open with him; hadn’t he? Just being in his presence was pushing buttons for her and she didn’t understand why. He had always been like this, it was she who had changed. “I know they are. I’ve been through this before. It’s the same with every single one of you.” The girl could feel her heartbeat rising as she talked to the doctor. Everything she said was true. She had been through this situation before. Therapist after therapist after therapist, she had been in and out of offices since she was 13... Ever since that incident. “I thought it could’ve been different with you. I thought that if I put all my effort into doing what everyone wants me to do then I’d be fine.” Holding her legs a bit tighter, the girl did nothing but stare at the office floor. She didn’t want to see the monsters… She didn’t even want to fight… But she couldn’t sit back when there was no one to fight her battles for her.

Sniffing a few times, the girl lifted her hand to wipe beneath her eyes. She wasn‘t going to cry in front of this man… It wouldn’t be fair to him. “Isabelle-” She could hear the disappointment in his tone, but instead of making her cringe it angered her. He had used this tone with her before and she had told him how she felt about him talking to her like she was five. “Don’t say my name like that. Don’t act like I’m being a disrespectful child.” Her words started off low, but slowly grew in decibels. Anger could be seen in the girl’s eyes as she stared at the man… Part of her wanted to get up and punch him in the face; a very small part.

“We’ve been through this before haven’t we? I thought we were past this stage… Ready to move onto the next one… You’ve been doing so well.” He was pleading with her. It was true… She had been the docile little doll that both him and her parents were looking for. She’d smile when she had to… Lie when she had to… And she had no qualms with it; but the fact was… She was lying. She had never truly felt as though her monsters would disappear if she confronted them… But she had to try and the method had failed her.

That night she stood there like an idiot… Trembling in it‘s presence. She had wanted to believe in the words her doctor had been telling her. Wanted the drugs that were in her system to make the thing disappear, but nothing worked. “Have I?” The mockery of the question was obvious, but wasn’t it he who threw the first stone? Telling her that she had been doing well when they both knew that she wasn’t. “For the past few weeks we’ve been having the same conversation. We’d talk about how my week has been and whether or not I’ve been taking the medication you’ve put me on. We’d talk about things happening in the town, but it’s been months since you’ve actually asked anything about me. About them.” The girl could feel her emotions getting the best of her… Anger… Hate… Fear… She wanted to be okay, she wanted to be like everyone else, but it seemed as though she wouldn’t be granted such mercy.

“You aren’t as scared as you were when you first entered my office. You’re able to hold a decent conversation without retreating within that mind of yours.” It was obvious by his tone that her therapist was choosing his words wisely. He had promised her that he would be honest with her about her progress… Her father had been able to give her that much. But if he was being honest, then why did she feel as though every word coming from his mouth was a lie? “You’ve grown a substantial amount in the few months you’ve been here, but today it seems as though you’re beginning to revert into that scared little girl I saw follow her father through my door.”

“I’m losing my mind. No amount of therapy can prevent that.” The words were no louder than a whisper as she said them. She had already ruined her façade of being “Okay” so she might as well make what she was feeling known. I’ve really done it this time. The thought ran through her head as she watched her therapist write on that little notepad of his. “I’m going to bring your medication back up to where it was about two months ago. I thought bringing it down would allow you a bit more freedom while still retaining you’re stability, but it seems that I have made a mistake.” More medication. Of course that would be the first thing he would turn to… People these days seemed to rely on drugs to control others. A child with an overactive imagination? Give him some Ritalin; calm the little kid down. A widow suffering from depression? Give her a few pills to get her through the day… Zoloft, Prozac, Paxil… Take your pick. “You’re doing really well here Isabelle. You have a good life and are destined for amazing things. I’m only here to help you realize the potential you have and help you manage the stress of your daily life.”

Only here to help me manage stress? Bullshit. Green eyes stared at the man as he practically told her that she was fine. “Waste of time. I know how to handle stress… I know how to handle my life.” She was on the verge of yelling… The verge of tears… She didn’t want to do this anymore.

“Isabelle--” As the words came from his mouth the girl couldn’t handle looking at him anymore. “--I told you not to say my name like that. I get it… I’m sick. But you’re kind of sick in the head yourself Trammell. A real character.” What kind of therapist would tell a sick person that they were completely fine? It was obvious that she wasn’t okay… It was obvious that something had happened, but he didn’t ask about those things. He just kept insisting that he was her “friend.” He wanted her to open up to him on her own, but what did he expect her to say? That she had stood up to one of her visions and that the beast couldn’t hurt her? That she had taken his advice and was actually getting more stability in her life? She could tell him that… She could tell him all sorts of lies… But talking to him was as good as talking to a wall. He never listened. “I’m gonna go. I’ll be back next week… Maybe.” Standing up from the couch, the girl smoothed out her clothes before staring at the man. She had chosen to fight, and sitting here on his couch, staring at his floor wasn’t going to protect her from those monsters.

“Sit down Isabelle. Our session isn’t over.” The friendly tone that he had been using before was cracking. She could hear the stress in his voice… Could practically see the lines in his face. “If you leave, I’ll be forced to call your father and let him know what is happening. He worries about you… He doesn’t want to see you get hurt again.” As the words left the man’s mouth the girl couldn’t help scoff. Until that moment she would’ve believed what he was telling her… That her parents cared about her and didn’t want her to get hurt, but at the moment the only thing she could really see them caring about is their reputation.

Their daughter was crazy and for them… That fact was probably harder to handle then if she were dead.

“Go ahead… Call him. I don‘t care.” Her voice was low as she stared at the man for a moment before turning to the dark mahogany door, her right hand resting on the handle. Her father was the entire reason she was doing this. She just wanted him to be proud of her… To see her as Isabelle and not like this little ball of clay that he had to shape and mold and pump full of drugs so that she had a chance at normal life. “He doesn’t really care about me anyways.” As the words left her mouth, the girl opened the office and ran out. She needed to get away from people… No one understood what she was going through and no one ever would.