Chapter Eight: Sensitive

“Lionel!!” Lochlan stood up as I entered. S**t. He bounds up to me with feverish enthusiasm. “Howya?” He grins and slaps me on the back with surprising force.
“OH-- Hi... Lochlan...” I shroud away a little. “I’m... fine.... you know... in therapy.”
“Me too! Don’t ya like it ‘ere?” His smile is so convincing I almost want to tell him yes.
“Not... really. I mean, I shouldn’t be here...” I sigh, fidgeting with the collar of my sleeve.
“Well, none of us are, really. It just means we got messed up, right?” Lochlan tilts his head at me curiously. I flinch a little.
“Some of.... us...” I struggle using the word “us.” I don’t really feel like I’m grouped with them.

You think you’re the only one here against your will?

Maybe... I guess it never occurred to me that other people might be forced too. Forced to submit to the social norm.

Lionel, you are about as socially normal as they come, if that was the true problem, then you definitely wouldn’t be here.

Nothing socially normal about US, though!

“Uhh, Lionel?” Lochlan’s expression grows worried, his dopey, almost puppy like expression  pulls me out of my Lenore-induced trance.

“Right, sorry. I just have a headache...” I rub my temples convincingly. This is not the time.

“Oh!” Lochlan’s new smile is slightly mischievous, his golden-colored piercings glint in the lighting. It occurs to me for the first time how many he really has. Twelve in total; a ring on his right eyebrow, a stud on his left nostril, a thick ring in the middle of his bottom lip, five on his right ear, and four on his left.  “Did’ja get yerself fluthered last night?”

“Did I... what?” His Irish slang is so cute. I have no idea what he is ever saying to me! I back up a little and look up at him in confusion. He must be at least six-foot-four.

“Plastered! Langers! Y’know? Wasted off yer arse!” His smirk grows wider.

“You mean drunk?” I narrow my eyes.

“Yeah!” He jumps a little, smiling wider, his expressive hands are always in motion.

“No!” I’m a little taken aback. “I’m underaged!”

“Yer... what?” His muscular arms drape from his broad shoulders. Limp, idiotic.

“Underaged? I’m not allowed to drink!”

“There’s... rules for that?” We both stare in silent confusion at each other for a moment.

“I’m sorry... are you...” I’m not even sure what I’m going to ask. Is he retarded? No!

“Sorry boyo, I was sorta raised... out in a bog, y’know? Not a lot ‘o bars or neighborhoods or people or... rules, y’know?” He talks to me slowly, trudging through his lack of understanding. His hands begin to creep back to expressive life.

“So... you were raised in an urban area?” My brow is beginning to hurt with how hard my expressions are. What?

“Yeah! I think...” We’re both thoroughly confused by this point, He’s scratching his spiked hair and I’m unbuttoning and re-buttoning the collar on my sleeve.

“Lionel?” Saved by the bell! Camilla’s familiar voice echoes into the tiny waiting room and I’ve never been so happy to hear it.

“Oh! That’s me! I oughta go...” I start to slink off when Lochlan holds out one of his massive hands out to me with a big grin. I look at it and sigh a little before reaching out to shake it. He then pulls me forward into his chest and lifts me off of my feet. I gasp, it takes me a solid second or two to realize I had just been hugged. “AH!”

“Seeya, mucker!” He plops me down on my feet and it takes a moment for me to recover.

“Oh uh uhm yeah...” I stumble off into Camilla’s inviting room.

“Well, Lionel...” Camilla smiles warmly. She crosses her legs and pulls her light yellow dress over her curved legs--tinted dark from the tights she wore. The splash of dark complementing the black fedora she had placed on her blond head. “I like where we have been going so far, I must say! How do you feel?” She leans forward a bit, enthusiasm expressed plainly.
“Well, I certainly hate these sessions less.” I can’t help but grin, her warm, maternal glow reels me in. I sit down into one of the cozy chairs. “I must admit I am feeling much less stressed. I know that’s not why I’m here, but regardless. I feel like I’m in therapy the same reason anyone else would be. To unwind and relax. You understand?”
“Yes, of course! I think these past few weeks have gone very well for us.”
“The only problem is...” I sigh, glancing at the door.
“What?” She tilts her head, a few curls bounding off of her shoulder- gravity and the slight elasticity of hair locked in a duel.
“I can never stay in these good moods...” I grumble. “When I am talking to you, I usually feel fine unless you are asking too many questions.”
“Mhm?” She nods, her hands folded across her lap, upright and listening.
“But once I leave this room... the illusion of a cozy spot, lit with the smell of incense disappears, and I have to attempt to battle my way past, uh...” I glanced at the door again.
Feeling guilty?
No, shut up!
I know you really don’t hate him that much. They all mean well.
They’re also all crazy!!
“Lionel?” Ms. Derringer looks at me with concern. “You’re muttering to yourself again.” I draw my attention back to the cozy room.
“Right, sorry...” I shake my head. Goddamnit Lenore, you’ve gotten too cozy around her. Please just be quiet while I’m in here.
“You were saying?” She leans back, relaxing more now. A pleasant grin on her face.
“Some of the other patients... in the waiting room... they’re...” Her eyebrows furrow in a flash of concern.

“Oh no. Did Jolene harass you? You have to understand Lionel, some of these people are very unstable...”

“What...?!” Surprise and worry riddle my face in a blatant expression. I am suddenly significantly more scared about the waiting room. Are any of them dangerous?! Lochlan comes to mind. My god, what DOES he have?! I clear my throat. “U-uhh.. no! I’ve never encountered a.. Jolene...” I brush the left side of my hair back behind my ear, leaving the curled fluff neatly protecting my right eye. Her right eye.

“Oh!” Ms. Derringer visibly relaxes. “Who, then? All of the others are usually quite pleasant!” She tosses a few strands of golden yellow hair behind her back. I notice a gray streak for the first time.

“I don’t know... I don’t like attempting to deal with strangers in.. this environment. You understand? Mainly seeing as they’re all here for therapy and I really don’t like socialization that much...” I fiddle with my hands quietly.
“Many patients feel shame and worry in waiting rooms, but no worry. Most of them are harmless and sweet! Who could possibly be bothering you?”
“...Nevermind, forget it.” You feel guilty. Hahaha! Oh that’s so SAD, Lionel!
“You are in confidentiality here, Lionel. We can arrange another spot for you to wait in, if you please...”
“There’s no need...! It’s not anyone in particular, just...I hate trying to talk to people in a casual environment. And so many people there are just... they’re so open and friendly, and...I don’t know how to do that...”
“Lionel.” She suddenly has a very serious expression on her face. She is sitting upright and looking me dead in the eye. I start to feel a little worried.
“...Yes ma’am?”
“You don’t have a lot of friends, do you?”
I’m hurt.
This is what I was telling you! It’s true!
“I-It is not like I am incapable! I just... I don’t know, I don’t meet many people with my opinions and tastes. I am... not a very agreeable person.”
“Does anyone know about you? Your problems? Your accusations of schizophrenia? You are a smart boy, Lionel. You must have a decent reason to be avoiding treatment so ferociously. Do you have anyone to talk to? To confide in? To understand you?”
“I...” I do not believe what I am hearing. L-Lenore! How...
We are both smart, perceiving women who know you on a basic level. It was a pretty obvious statement, Lionel. “No. I.. I don’t. But I thought that was the entire point of... you!” I gestured wildly in her direction.
“Lionel...” She sighed. “A friend and a therapist are very different things.”
“I don’t need friends! I am successful, I am smart! I am responsible!” I can feel my voice rising.
“Lionel, darling, calm down.” Her voice becomes firm, and she places a hand on my shoulder. I take a deep breath and brush my fingers through my golden hair; each curl invites my pale fingers within their friendly grips, releasing with a spring once the stroke is through.
“What do you suggest, then?”
“What do you suggest, Lionel? I think you need more human contact. More understanding in your life. Have you ever reached out to anyone?”
“How...” I hold out my open hands, staring at the complex lines there, carved into my palms like ancient runes. “How do you make friends?” I ask quietly. That is probably the saddest thing I have ever said aloud.

There is sadder to come.

“Darling...” I can feel her sympathy, simultaneously embarrassing, insulting, and oddly warm. Cozy. Nice. “How do you think? You are a perceptive boy, think about it.”

“I don’t know! Everyone else seems to be flawless at it!” I run a hand through my hair and furrow slightly. I can feel mild anxiety fluttering about within.

“No one is born flawless at anything- you should know that more than anyone, Lionel.”

“I know, but the truth is...” I close my eyes, lightly. I don’t want to tell her the truth.

Why?

Because you’re my replacement for social interaction.

Why can’t you tell her that?

Because she’s not to know about you!

“Lionel? Come back to me, you’re spacing out again.” She nudges me gently, a little gentle human contact.
“Right, I’m sorry.” I sigh. “I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed.” My constant excuse during my more “schizophrenic” moments.
“Relax, Darling.” She coos. I glance at the clock in mild agitation. I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m done. I feel a little insulted-- she speaks to me as if I’m not capable of making friends.

Well, you’ve never really proved her wrong.

You’re against me too?!

You’ve never proved me wrong, either! Lionel--You are so insulted by the truth? You need real people to talk too, you need someone to actually hear you out; you need FUN Lionel! Ms. Derringer’s voice intrudes: “Lionel?” My body is stiff, I am gripped, focused on Lenore’s words. You can never be successful if you can’t even understand fellow humans! What about marriage? Love? A family?! Lionel you can’t possibly have any of the basic pleasures in life without people!

Yes I can! I’m not fit to be a husband, I can’t father children and I CAN’T DO IT. Socialization is NOT my skill-- You’re pathetic. Her voice fills my skull to the brim, her vicious words stab and poison me internally, I can feel her theoretical fists banging on the walls of my mind. The only satisfaction I need is within MYSELF! I don’t NEED other people! Lionel, You-- “Lionel. You’re having trouble focusing again. Come back to me.” I feel her standing up, moving closer to me. Concern in her voice. Tell that b***h to shut up! I’m talking to you right now! Lenore, please-- The noise is unbearable, too many voices at once-- my body clutched with the sound-- it feels as if they’re multiplying. So many filling in my mind. L I O N E L !

“Lionel?”

“AAAAAUGH!” I stand up and grab my head. The voices!  “PLEASE JUST BE QUIET I CAN MAKE FRIENDS, I CAN! PLEASE STOP I DON’T NEED THIS ANYMORE I KNOW, I KNOW! I’LL DO IT--I’LL SOCIALIZE-- PLEASE, JUST STOP!!” Gripping my head, I bend over and begin to mutter menacingly to Lenore. “If you do not shut up so help me god I WILL take the medication!” I gasp as the voices begin to fade, flutter down, cooling, releasing, disappearing one by one until only Lenore’s firm tone remains. She snorts at me aggressively and bites her lip. The internal screaming stops for now, but I can feel her pressing resentment pounding in my skull. Ugh, I have a headache.
“Lionel!” Ms. Derringer gasps, she stands up and gently touches my arm. “Please, calm down dear... there was no pressure...! Please, collect yourself...” I exhale forcefully and slowly lower myself into the warm chair, not releasing my fistfulls of hair just yet.
“I’m sorry.” I mutter softly. “I’m feeling overwhelmed.” My eyes remain wide, looking down at my brown formal shoes placed upon the dark, clean carpet. I take a few deep breaths. This has almost never happened before.  
“As you have expressed...!” Ms. Derringer is still clearly surprised, her hand clasped gently to her face. I’m scared.
“I think I need to leave now, Ms. Derringer.”
“Please dear, call me Camilla. And yes- you may leave fifteen minutes early today.”
“Thank you.” I gently lower my hands from my head and stand up straight. As I place my hand on the cool doorknob, Ms... Camilla calls out one last time.
“Lionel?”
“Yes Ma’am?” I glance over my shoulder at her, she looked more serious now, determined. Her hands clasped together in her lap and her back perfectly straight.
“I want you to think about what happened today... and be prepared to discuss it. I’m going to give you a break, and the next few sessions will be spent trying out some of the other therapists. I want you to keep what happened today in mind, and be able to talk about it next time we meet, okay?”

Reviews

[Ras Fish]

I think I am getting to addicted, when Lenore told Lionel to tell Camilla to Shut up, I said "Ouchh." out loud. Great Dialogue.

[Ivy Navillus]

I had SO MUCH FUN writing this chapter. This one was almost entirely unplanned, too. XD

[Ras Fish]

Yeah, like my stories xD I never know what I will write until I just write it and it usually is good or okay.

[Ivy Navillus]

Yes!