The therapist playbook

STAINED

Raphael stood in front of the mirror, buttoning up his school uniform with deliberate care. The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft, golden light across his room. He was trying to push the lingering dread of his recent nightmare out of his mind, focusing instead on the mundane task of getting ready for another school day. But as he rolled down his sleeves, covering his wrists, he couldn’t help but notice the faint, bruised marks on his skin.

The sight of them sent a shiver down his spine. He hadn’t noticed the bruises before—how could he have? His mind was too consumed with the terror of the dream, too overwhelmed by the image of those glowing eyes.

He reached out, gently touching one of the marks, wincing at the tenderness. They weren’t severe, but they were there, a physical reminder of something that was supposed to exist only in his mind.

“Raphael, are you almost ready? We’re going to be late!” Margaret called from the hallway.

“Yeah, I’m coming!” he replied, quickly pulling his sleeve down.

Just as he turned to grab his bag, the door to his room creaked open, and his younger sister, Margaret, peeked inside. Her eyes immediately landed on his wrists, narrowing in concern.

“What happened to your wrists?” she asked, stepping closer to get a better look.

Raphael instinctively crossed his arms, hiding the bruises from her view. “It’s nothing. I must’ve hit them on something yesterday. You know, during PE or something.”

Margaret wasn’t convinced. “You should be more careful. Those look like they hurt.”

Raphael forced a smile, ruffling her hair to lighten the mood. “I’ll be fine. Come on, let’s go.”

As they walked to the bus stop, Raphael couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at him. He knew the bruises weren’t from PE. He knew exactly where they came from—the nightmare, the dark figure, those terrible glowing eyes. But how could he explain that to Margaret without sounding crazy? So, he kept it to himself, burying the fear deep down, hoping it would stay there.

When Raphael arrived at school, the usual buzz of student chatter filled the air. The schoolyard was alive with energy as students mingled, sharing stories from the weekend and catching up on gossip. Raphael’s friends were already waiting for him at their usual spot by the lockers.

David greeted him with a grin. “Hey, man! You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Raphael forced a laugh. “Didn’t sleep well, that’s all. What’s new?”

The group quickly filled him in on the latest developments in their lives, and Raphael was grateful for the distraction.

David’s love life had taken an exciting turn—he was now dating Madonna, one of Raphael’s classmates. She was a bright, outgoing girl who had caught David’s eye a few weeks ago. They had hit it off instantly, and now they were the talk of the class.

Curtis, on the other hand, had finally ended his complicated love chase. His crush on Claire had fizzled out, and he had started dating another girl named Star. Star was a quiet, artistic type, with a love for painting and poetry. She and Curtis seemed to complement each other well, their relationship more grounded than his previous pursuits.

Troy, ever the charmer, had ended his fling with Pearl. Their relationship had been a rollercoaster of emotions, but it was clear to everyone that it wasn’t meant to last. Now, Troy had set his sights on a new girl, Annette. She was smart, confident, and had a sharp wit that kept Troy on his toes. He was already planning his next move, eager to win her over.

And then there was Raphael, who found himself drawn to Madonna’s friend, Dami. But it wasn’t the same overwhelming infatuation he had felt for Oma. This was different—softer, more subtle, a one sided affection. Dami had a shy, almost reserved demeanour that intrigued Raphael. She didn’t dominate his thoughts the way Oma had, but there was something about her that kept him interested. It was more of a quiet affection, one that he wasn’t entirely sure how to act on.

The group teased him mercilessly about it, of course. “So, when are you going to ask Dami out?” Troy nudged him with a grin.

“Yeah, she’s clearly into you,” Curtis added.

Raphael shook his head, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t know, guys. It’s not like that... well, not yet, anyway.”

David clapped him on the back. “Take your time, man. But don’t wait too long—you don’t want to miss your chance.”

As the day progressed, Raphael had now been caught up in the familiar routine of school life. The bell rang, signalling the start of PE, and the group made their way to the field. The sun was shining, and the air was crisp, the perfect day for a game of football.

Raphael and his friends were competitive as always, running across the field, laughing and shouting as they chased the ball. The energy was infectious.

After PE, they headed to their science class, where the teacher, Mr. Thompson, was waiting with a stern expression on his face.

“Alright, everyone, settle down,” Mr. Thompson began, his voice commanding the attention of the class. “As you all know, your final exams are just three months away. That may seem like a long time, but trust me, it will pass quicker than you think.”

The mention of exams sent a ripple of anxiety through the class. Everyone knew that the final exams were the most important tests of the year, determining not just their grades, but their future prospects as well.

Raphael exchanged a glance with David, who rolled his eyes. “Here we go,” David whispered. “The pressure’s already starting.”

Mr. Thompson continued, “I expect all of you to put in the necessary effort. These exams are not something you can cram for at the last minute. Start preparing now, and don’t hesitate to ask for help if you need it.”

Raphael nodded along with the rest of the class, mentally making a note to start studying sooner rather than later. He didn’t want to leave anything to chance.

As the day wore on, Raphael found himself slipping back into the comfortable rhythm of school life. There was something soothing about the routine—the familiar faces, the banter with friends, the predictable flow of lessons.

In one of their free periods, Raphael and his friends gathered in the courtyard, enjoying the warm weather. They sat on the grass, joking and laughing as they talked about everything and nothing.

“So, who’s ready for the big maths test next week?” Curtis asked, lying back with his hands behind his head.

“Not me,” Troy groaned. “Maths is the worst.”

David chuckled. “You say that every time, and yet you always manage to pass.”

“That’s because I have you guys to help me out,” Troy said, grinning. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

They spent the rest of the period lounging in the sun, talking about the upcoming exams, summer plans, and the usual gossip that floated around the school. It was in these moments that Raphael felt most at ease, surrounded by his friends, the worries of the world kept at bay.

Over the next few weeks, the dynamics within Raphael’s friend group began to shift as the new relationships took root. David and Madonna were inseparable, their relationship blossoming into something genuine and sweet. They often sat together in class, whispering and laughing, completely absorbed in each other.

Curtis and Star, meanwhile, were quieter in their affection. They spent time together in the art room after school, Curtis helping Star with her paintings, or simply enjoying each other’s company in comfortable silence.

Troy, ever the flirt, was in full pursuit of Annette. His antics were both amusing and slightly over the top, but Annette seemed to enjoy the attention. She played along with his jokes, occasionally putting him in his place with a sharp retort that left the group in stitches.

And then there was Raphael, whose feelings for Dami continued to simmer quietly in the background. He found himself gravitating towards her more and more, sitting next to her in class, finding excuses to talk to her, even if just for a few minutes. But Dami remained somewhat distant, friendly but not overly encouraging.

It was a strange, delicate dance—one that Raphael wasn’t entirely sure how to navigate. He wasn’t used to this kind of subtlety, this slow-burning interest that didn’t immediately overwhelm him. It was confusing, but also intriguing in its own way.

As the weeks passed, the teachers began to ramp up the pressure, reminding the students again and again about the importance of the final exams. There were study guides, practice tests, and countless reminders to start revising now if they hadn’t already.

Mr. Thompson, in particular, seemed determined to drill the importance of the exams into their heads. “These exams are your future,” he would say, pacing the front of the classroom. “They will determine what options you have when you leave this school. Don’t take them lightly.”

The constant reminders only added to Raphael’s stress. Between the nightmare, the bruises, and the pressure of the exams, he felt like he was being pulled in a hundred different directions at once.

But he couldn’t let himself fall apart. He had to stay strong, had to keep going, no matter what. The darkness might be closing in, but Raphael was determined to fight it with everything he had.