Societies Misfits (Completed)

Chapter Eleven

My plan was simple, It's to get in and get out of this disgusting waiting room. I sit anxiously waiting for the famous Dr. Adams that my mom has been talking about the whole drive here. She says that a friend from work suggested her for me to see and my mom thinks that they are some kind of miracle worker.

I really had no I dear what to expect when I set foot in this place, My mother never disclosed to me if the counselor is a male or female but I also didn't care to ask since I don't want to be here, but I have to try to stick it out. Is the Psychologist going to be some crazy positive person or some laid back freak who indulges in daily spa trips because that's all I need right now? I mean I don't mind but I feel like I would be more comfortable with a man because I can manipulate him so I can leave just as fast as I got in. Dr. Adams could mean anything. Whether she or he is whatever I don't care but I'm truly just scared.

After my very traumatizing dream, last night and mom telling me that I was, in fact, seeing someone to talk to I didn't even have the time to go back to sleep. all I could think about was that stupid envelope. It's hunting me what could potentially be inside. You're probably thinking Bridget just open in it already it's not going to be that bad. But you don't know my mother. She wouldn't just have something like that hidden in a safe with literally thousands of dollars. Shes just not that type of person really. I mean for one she leaves random things out all the time. Like for instance,

She used to leave out all the work applications that she had to go over and approve and she would just randomly place them down in the kitchen or on the floor and come back to them later to read them all. Poor Cassandra would get so annoyed because she would have to clean around the annoying papers and if she moved just one mom would freak. I mean the envelope has to be important. Why would it be hidden in a locked safe with so much money? The money isn't something I'm worried about I don't really care how much money she has and what she does with it but I am probably just stressing over nothing as usual.

"Are you nervous?" Clair says while she flips through an old magazine from 2011

Mom allowed me to take Clair for moral support although her appointment is after mine since her parents got the call from the sheriff office and practically everyone in the eleventh grade got the call to talk to someone if their children needed to. What confuses me though is we have a counselor at our school but I guess she can't talk to that many kids at a time.

"Whats there to be nervous about," I say looking around at the motivation signs hanging up around the walls.

'The truth will set you free'

'You've been through hell and back to be here'

'Hard times don't last'

The signs honestly are very cheesy yet overwhelming at the same time. But one sign sticks with me as Dr. Adams walks out

"Bridget Lovey," She says smiling while looking around at the nearly empty waiting room. Apart from Clair mom and I, there are only about two other people. A very old lady who looks like shes just seen a ghost. And a young boy who I swear goes to my school.

I get up from my seat and mom looks up at me with disbelief as I am actually doing this. I never thought it would come a time in my life where mom would waste money for me to talk to someone. I know counselors or whatever they're called are meant to help you with things but like to waste your money to talk to someone is out of the question for me. I'd rather talk to Jackson than this lady.

I step into the bright yellow room and am greeted with a view of the city, although it's a painting it's very realistic and quite beautiful. Maybe this won't be so bad.

"Take a seat, Bridget," She says pointing to three seats facing her desk and my heart drops a little because for I second I thought that she was going to bring Clair and mom in since there are three seats.

"I'd rather stand," I said sounding a little standoffish but not meaning to

"That's perfectly ok with me I will stand too," She said smiling at me with her gorgeous green eyes.

I cringe a little "Actually I will sit" I said feeling bad for her to stand up so I sit on a wooden chair and stare very awkwardly behind her at the city of Chicago painting.

"You like my painting," She says warmly and I snap out of my daze and feel embarrassed

"It's fine," I say scratching at my palm. I don't really bother asking if she painted it or not but I don't care.

"So how are you feeling today?" She says brightly at me and her eyes sparkle in the surprisingly very dimly light room

"Same old same old I guess," I say not really even wanting to tell her anything in particular apart from whats going on in my had.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She says

"I have some Green tea or tea and coffee over there?" She says pointing to a shelf full of tea bags and a glass bottle of coffee.

"No it's ok I'm fine," I say really regretting not asking for a green tea to calm me down.

"I would like to start with My name so I am Alice Adams and I've been a trained Psychologist for 10 years now" She smiles proudly and I smirk a little at how proud she is.

"Now I have to legally tell you that whatever you say to me today is completely confidential which means whatever you tell me will stay inside these walls only," Dr. Adams says

"But if you are in danger to yourself or others I will have to inform your parents"

"Parent!" I correct her immediately after she says it

"Sorry my bad," She says very softly

"Whatever you feel comfortable telling me Bridget I'm here to listen and not judge you in anyway shape or form"

I look to her right again thinking about whether to completely walk out of this room or sit and tell her whats going on in my head. The poster hanging on the yellow wall does not match at all but its the complete same to the one outside the waiting room

'The truth will set you free' The poster says and behind it is the palm trees, Like that, 's suppose to be calming in the scary moment. I try to make up my mind but I just decide to ultimately trust her and tell her somethings because what is the what that could happen?

"I don't want to sound crazy and I don't know where to start," I say rushing the sentence out as fast as possible and she tries to keep a straight face watching me. She wasn't laughing at all but her face was I a little bit I guess happy when I started to open up and I swear her face looks very familiar but I can't point my finger on it.

"Bridget nothing you say will ever make me think you are crazy, and can we not use that word please because truly no one is crazy, just troubled"

"For a long time now I've been having these recurring dreams of a home invasion. They are like really graphic and the things that happen inside of my dreams never change, its always the end goal of my dream is that either my mother gets hurt or killed" I say resting my chin on my hands.

She nods her head as if waiting for me to continue but I just sit there looking down at the ground.

"Well, Home invasion or robberies are one of the most common recurring dreams most people experience," She says writing down what I just said on her laptop and I get kinda nervous.

"I don't want to sound rude but why are you writing what I'm saying, I thought this was confidential."

"Well yes it is confidential but I like to keep a record of the things my clients tell me so I can refer back to them at a later time and ask how you're coping with things," She says finishing her typing

I take in a long deep breath and continue. "But the thing about these dreams are they seem so lifelike, like everything about them almost feels I don't know how to explain it just seems so real, like what I'm experiencing in those dreams are real life but real. From everything in my house down to the very detail and the people inside of it.

"What happens in these dreams," She says still typing away freely

"I know you said not to use the word crazy but this is the bit where I sound crazy," I say going back to scratching my palm.

"If you don't feel comfortable telling me Bridget that is perfectly fine but these are dreams and only dreams, not real events you don't have to worry," She says looking up at me and I feel a little better inside.

"Well, they start out with me inside my bedroom," I say getting really comfortable on this wooden chair.

Who would have ever thought me, Bridget lovey would ever say that about an old run down yet actually a very comfortable wooden chair. That's so unlike me.

"I usually get up out of bed and ninety-nine percent of the time walk to my bathroom to shower," I say looking down at my palm and scratching the inside of it again.

"The weird thing is the mirror is usually all smashed everywhere or I hear like a humming or a sing-song voice that makes me walk out of the bathroom sometimes I'm naked and follow the voice outside my room"

She interrupts me getting serious, "And when did these dreams start"

I stop and think for a second " I honestly can not think of a time in my life when I haven't had they dreams" I say scratching even harder at my palm

"Do you know what could be triggering these dreams, Maybe its a person in your life or a test that is stressing you out and making you have these dreams"

"How can a test make me have these disturbing dreams," I say getting angry and start to break away the skin on my palm

"Ok um let's take a break from this subject and talk about something else," She says getting nervous as she watches me making myself bleed.

"I heard abou.."

"Don't even fuckin say there names," I say starting to cry as I stop scratching my palm and look down to see a small pool of blood forming inside my palm.

"Bridget your bleeding," She says looking down at my palm and grabbing the tissue box from her desk.

"I don't want you to hurt yourself, Bridget, I'm sorry for even bringing them up"

I look out her dead in the eyes and say " You don't know wants its like to be responsible for two innocent teens death" I say wiping my bloody palm on my black tights.

Her eyes widen and she walks back to her desk with the tissue box in her hand and begins to write again like shes just uncovered something

"What do you mean responsible for someone's death she repeats"

"Don't even bother writing it down the police already came and questioned me about what happened," I say regretting my chose of words about how I am responsible for there death which I know isn't true but I was in the heat of the moment and my palm is currently aching in pain. I don't know what has gotten into me but I think I'm done here.

"I'm sorry for everything but I have to go," I say standing very quickly as I start to fall backways into my chair and my eyesight begins to become fuzzy as I realize then and there the dizziness I'm feeling as I slowly rest my eyes.

"Bridget sweetie its going to be ok" I hear an unfamiliar voice telling me.

But its too late because the dream starts to begin again.

dripping is an unfamiliar sound I don't usually hear as I awake to my darkly lime lightroom. I try to sit up but my chests and arms feel extremely tight as I look down and see that my arms are tired up to either side of the bed. I try to scream but it's no use because the duck tape has sealed my lips shut. I sit the while I slowly cry inside and feel nothing but coldness as the door swings open.

"Oh honey look at you, your drooling," My mom says coming over and wiping my chin as baby food drips down my mouth and onto pink bib.

I giggle as she wipes my chin and realizes that its Cassandra slowly ripping my duck tape off me to talk.

"Top of the morning," She says in a southern yet Scottish accent and I freeze as I see behind the man in the black cloak waiting in the shadows.

She walks over to my side table and picks up a kitchen knife.

"Now this won't hurt a bit," She says cutting the ropes off me and I whimper at loud

"Oh no no, no don't cry little one," She says and the images flash back a forth to my mother and her.

I'm released from the ropes but stay still afraid to make a move knowing she has the knife still right in her hand"

"GET UP!" The man in the black cloak shouts and I jump up as fast as possible and Cassandra tries to run as me but I make it free and run straight passed the both of them surprisingly at a speed I've never run before.

I make it downstairs but its too like because I hear the gun shots coming from the kitchen

"I'm sorry Bridget I had to do it or they would kill me," Clair says pointing the gun still at my dead mother.

"Since you've just witnessed a murder I guess I have to kill you now"

.........