Entry tags:
(no subject)
“Your name is Anna, yes?”
She was slight of build, with shortly cropped blonde hair and large brown eyes with flecks of gold. He had a hard time seeing them, though, as she never quite looked him right in the eye. She stayed very still on the chair across from him, her hands folded tightly in her lap. She glanced around the room at all times, reading the book titles on his shelves or staring at the aquarium he kept close to his desk.
“Yes,” she answered. Her voice was forcibly steady.
“I'm not here to judge you, Anna,” he said, running his thumb alongside his notepad. He smiled in a manner he hoped was comforting. He hated dealing with these foster kids – not that they were bad kids. But it was so often heartbreaking to deal with them. Anna he found rather unique though. “I just want to talk.”
“No, I know that,” she said, very briefly meeting his eyes before staring down at her hands. “This just feels like a waste of time.”
“You like having your time carefully scheduled? You're barely seventeen and already attending community college. You must have a very disciplined life.”
“I guess so,” her shrug was brief and tense. “I have a lot of work to do.” He noticed her staring at one particular book on his shelf. “First edition?”
He followed her gaze. “Ah, yes,” he said. “You've read it?”
“I considered psychiatry for a while,” she said. “But the human mind is a bit... complicated and chaotic. I prefer looking at people through a microscope. Putting numbers and names to everything. Makes more sense.”
“I read that you're wanting to attend medical school,” the doctor glanced down at his notes. “That's very ambitious. Not many young people in your situation have such a clear plan.”
Her frown was noticeable. “My situation,” she echoed darkly.
“There's no shame in your life circumstances, Anna. You're made stronger for it,” he said. She was quiet and he leaned forward a little. “Do you want to talk about that?”
Anna shrugged again and stared at the aquarium. “Not much to say,” she said. “My foster parents are all right. They leave me alone for the most part and the rest of the kids don't bother me. I get a lot of time to myself to read.”
“It's not wrong to feel unhappy,” the doctor said. “And if you do, this is a safe place to talk about it.”
“It's not that,” Anna said rather quickly. “I really am okay, just... like...” she sighed heavily and fully stared into his eyes for the first time. “You ever feel like it's never enough, what you're doing? The head-doctoring I mean. Like it has no real impact and can't erase or bring balance to the wrong in the world no matter how much good you do.”
He blinked in surprise. “Anna,” he said gently. “Is there something driving you into this career choice that you want to talk about?”
She looked slightly startled for a moment before staring down at her hands again. “No. Well... I guess,” she said. “I want my name to be something good. I want to be important, you know? I want people to read about me a hundred years from now in a history book and see me as some one who accomplished good things... great things, I mean. Important.”
“Is there something you feel like you have to make up for?”
“It's just,” she continued as if she hadn't heard his question. “Bad beginnings shouldn't mean bad endings, right? My name shouldn't be something I have to read on a piece of paper and hate.”
He opened his mouth to say something but stopped. She took a deep breath and looked down so far that her chin touched her chest. Her entire body was tensing up so tightly he feared she'd be in the fetal position if she continued.
“I want my life to be... important. I want my name in the history books and I have the plan to do it,” she said. “And maybe someday if I do that...” she stopped and glanced up at him, just the faintest trace of tears in her eyes. “You... you said none of this leaves this office, right? I can tell you anything and... and it'll be all right.”
“Anna, of course,” he said emphatically, and set his notebook aside. He smiled in a manner he hoped was reassuring. “You have nothing to fear from me.”
She nodded and closed her large brown eyes tightly. “I don't talk about what happened to my parents much,” she said. “And when I think about it logically, it... wasn't really my fault. I mean, I didn't mean to do it... I...” another deep breath. “It was an accident.” She hugged her knees to herself and her breaths became a little shakier. “They were napping one day... I was only five. I was playing outside and got hungry... so I went to try to turn the stove on by myself. Not sure why, maybe I thought I could make some soup...”
He noticed her playing now with her own fingernails, picking at them nervously. “It was a gas stove,” her voice was getting steadier, almost robotic. “When the fire part of it didn't work, I gave up. Just had a piece of bread and went back to playing outside.” She bit her lip. “I've always been a bit smart for my age, so... I'd recently been in a science class with the older kids. We weren't supposed to play with fire in class, of course, but... I liked to put into practice stuff I'd learned once I got home.” She buried her head between her knees. “It was an accident, I swear...”
“Anna,” he said softly. “It's okay. It wasn't your fault.”
“They didn't get out of the house in time. I was... pretty burned up myself,” she sniffed. “Still have the scars to prove it... don't really like wearing short sleeves because of it. But... they didn't make it. Mom almost did, they got her to the hospital... but only for a few minutes. I didn't even get to see her. I wanted to apologize.”
He sighed softly and leaned back a little. “Anna,” he said more firmly. “You're carrying around so much guilt that no child should ever have to endure. What happened was an accident and I know – I promise you – that if your parents were alive today they'd say the same.”
“Maybe. In any case...” she frowned. “Guess it's probably why I want to do so much, you know? Be a young doctor, become the highest and youngest ranking female officer in military ever... guess it's all making up for what happened.” She looked up at him. Her eyes were a little read but she was no longer crying. “At least I guess that's what you're going to tell me.”
“You seem to have a fairly good grasp of your own mind, Anna,” he said. “And I know this is just a required one-time visit we're having, but... if you'd like, I would like you to come back more often. Perhaps work out some of this guilt you're carrying and hopefully make your already bright future even better.”
She frowned a little and glanced at the clock. “Time's up,” she said. She sniffed briefly and stood, grabbing her heavy backpack full of what he could only guess was medical texts far too advanced for some one so young. “I don't know about coming back or anything... but... thanks, I think. I haven't ever told anyone that.”
“Here's my card, Anna,” said the doctor, handing it to her. She pocketed it. “Please call me if you ever feel comfortable enough to talk more about this... and anything else you want to discuss. We can even just meet up to talk about the medical books you're reading these days.”
She smiled and it seemed genuine. “Yeah,” she said. “Sure.”
After the pleasantries she left the office, driving herself home in a beat-up old Honda. He watched her leave the parking lot from his office window and somehow knew he'd never see her again.
THE (awkward) END
--
for real though, endings are always weird to write. I need to work on those.
She was slight of build, with shortly cropped blonde hair and large brown eyes with flecks of gold. He had a hard time seeing them, though, as she never quite looked him right in the eye. She stayed very still on the chair across from him, her hands folded tightly in her lap. She glanced around the room at all times, reading the book titles on his shelves or staring at the aquarium he kept close to his desk.
“Yes,” she answered. Her voice was forcibly steady.
“I'm not here to judge you, Anna,” he said, running his thumb alongside his notepad. He smiled in a manner he hoped was comforting. He hated dealing with these foster kids – not that they were bad kids. But it was so often heartbreaking to deal with them. Anna he found rather unique though. “I just want to talk.”
“No, I know that,” she said, very briefly meeting his eyes before staring down at her hands. “This just feels like a waste of time.”
“You like having your time carefully scheduled? You're barely seventeen and already attending community college. You must have a very disciplined life.”
“I guess so,” her shrug was brief and tense. “I have a lot of work to do.” He noticed her staring at one particular book on his shelf. “First edition?”
He followed her gaze. “Ah, yes,” he said. “You've read it?”
“I considered psychiatry for a while,” she said. “But the human mind is a bit... complicated and chaotic. I prefer looking at people through a microscope. Putting numbers and names to everything. Makes more sense.”
“I read that you're wanting to attend medical school,” the doctor glanced down at his notes. “That's very ambitious. Not many young people in your situation have such a clear plan.”
Her frown was noticeable. “My situation,” she echoed darkly.
“There's no shame in your life circumstances, Anna. You're made stronger for it,” he said. She was quiet and he leaned forward a little. “Do you want to talk about that?”
Anna shrugged again and stared at the aquarium. “Not much to say,” she said. “My foster parents are all right. They leave me alone for the most part and the rest of the kids don't bother me. I get a lot of time to myself to read.”
“It's not wrong to feel unhappy,” the doctor said. “And if you do, this is a safe place to talk about it.”
“It's not that,” Anna said rather quickly. “I really am okay, just... like...” she sighed heavily and fully stared into his eyes for the first time. “You ever feel like it's never enough, what you're doing? The head-doctoring I mean. Like it has no real impact and can't erase or bring balance to the wrong in the world no matter how much good you do.”
He blinked in surprise. “Anna,” he said gently. “Is there something driving you into this career choice that you want to talk about?”
She looked slightly startled for a moment before staring down at her hands again. “No. Well... I guess,” she said. “I want my name to be something good. I want to be important, you know? I want people to read about me a hundred years from now in a history book and see me as some one who accomplished good things... great things, I mean. Important.”
“Is there something you feel like you have to make up for?”
“It's just,” she continued as if she hadn't heard his question. “Bad beginnings shouldn't mean bad endings, right? My name shouldn't be something I have to read on a piece of paper and hate.”
He opened his mouth to say something but stopped. She took a deep breath and looked down so far that her chin touched her chest. Her entire body was tensing up so tightly he feared she'd be in the fetal position if she continued.
“I want my life to be... important. I want my name in the history books and I have the plan to do it,” she said. “And maybe someday if I do that...” she stopped and glanced up at him, just the faintest trace of tears in her eyes. “You... you said none of this leaves this office, right? I can tell you anything and... and it'll be all right.”
“Anna, of course,” he said emphatically, and set his notebook aside. He smiled in a manner he hoped was reassuring. “You have nothing to fear from me.”
She nodded and closed her large brown eyes tightly. “I don't talk about what happened to my parents much,” she said. “And when I think about it logically, it... wasn't really my fault. I mean, I didn't mean to do it... I...” another deep breath. “It was an accident.” She hugged her knees to herself and her breaths became a little shakier. “They were napping one day... I was only five. I was playing outside and got hungry... so I went to try to turn the stove on by myself. Not sure why, maybe I thought I could make some soup...”
He noticed her playing now with her own fingernails, picking at them nervously. “It was a gas stove,” her voice was getting steadier, almost robotic. “When the fire part of it didn't work, I gave up. Just had a piece of bread and went back to playing outside.” She bit her lip. “I've always been a bit smart for my age, so... I'd recently been in a science class with the older kids. We weren't supposed to play with fire in class, of course, but... I liked to put into practice stuff I'd learned once I got home.” She buried her head between her knees. “It was an accident, I swear...”
“Anna,” he said softly. “It's okay. It wasn't your fault.”
“They didn't get out of the house in time. I was... pretty burned up myself,” she sniffed. “Still have the scars to prove it... don't really like wearing short sleeves because of it. But... they didn't make it. Mom almost did, they got her to the hospital... but only for a few minutes. I didn't even get to see her. I wanted to apologize.”
He sighed softly and leaned back a little. “Anna,” he said more firmly. “You're carrying around so much guilt that no child should ever have to endure. What happened was an accident and I know – I promise you – that if your parents were alive today they'd say the same.”
“Maybe. In any case...” she frowned. “Guess it's probably why I want to do so much, you know? Be a young doctor, become the highest and youngest ranking female officer in military ever... guess it's all making up for what happened.” She looked up at him. Her eyes were a little read but she was no longer crying. “At least I guess that's what you're going to tell me.”
“You seem to have a fairly good grasp of your own mind, Anna,” he said. “And I know this is just a required one-time visit we're having, but... if you'd like, I would like you to come back more often. Perhaps work out some of this guilt you're carrying and hopefully make your already bright future even better.”
She frowned a little and glanced at the clock. “Time's up,” she said. She sniffed briefly and stood, grabbing her heavy backpack full of what he could only guess was medical texts far too advanced for some one so young. “I don't know about coming back or anything... but... thanks, I think. I haven't ever told anyone that.”
“Here's my card, Anna,” said the doctor, handing it to her. She pocketed it. “Please call me if you ever feel comfortable enough to talk more about this... and anything else you want to discuss. We can even just meet up to talk about the medical books you're reading these days.”
She smiled and it seemed genuine. “Yeah,” she said. “Sure.”
After the pleasantries she left the office, driving herself home in a beat-up old Honda. He watched her leave the parking lot from his office window and somehow knew he'd never see her again.
THE (awkward) END
--
for real though, endings are always weird to write. I need to work on those.