Ch. 2 - Autumn CriesA Chapter by BlackFairytales
If this is going to be a twice a week thing, I guess I need to open up a bit more. Not that she deserves my trust, but isn’t she legally obligated to keep everything I tell her a secret?
“Alright, Autumn, are you willing to cooperate today?”
“I cooperated last time.” It’s not my fault you fail to see things my way. Why do I always get stuck with people who never measure up to my level of intelligence? I’m actually smarter than my therapist.
“This session, I’d like to talk more about your family, okay?” I nod. “What are some things you like about your family?”
The list is short enough, now, just to find the words to describe them in a nice way. There’s my mom. She was an alcoholic, now she’s a Christian woman that tries to push her beliefs on me. That’s quite a change, but what’s nice to say about that? I could say she cares about where I’ll end up when I’m dead and she doesn’t have to put up with me anymore. It’s not like she was ever a bad mom. She just never cared enough to ask. After her, there is my step-dad. He’s never home, and when he is, he isn’t really there. He stays in his room and when he’s not, we argue. He’s always just been there. It’s not really a communicative relationship.
“What about your biological father.”
She wants to know about my father, the sperm donor, or his undeserving-could-almost-be-a-superhero name, Bio-dad. I don’t remember my parents ever being happily in love. They divorced when I was two. I don’t remember them holding hands and laughing. I don’t remember them kissing or saying I love you. My dad is a criminal. He raped my mom and she was forced to marry him because she got pregnant. He tried to kill her on numerous occasions. He’d come home late after cheating on her with who knows how many people. He is addicted to porn and obsessed with his dead ex-girlfriend. He cares more about his pictures of her than he does about any of us. I got a letter from him when he was in jail. He said I was a mistake, that we were all mistakes. He said his life was nothing but Hell since he met my mother. I guess that included us.
“He’s not really in the picture.” That should satisfy her.
“That’s not the answer I was looking for. I want you to say something nice about your father, even if it’s just one word.”
How much longer do I have to suffer?
“It is a good thing, you see, because he’s not very photogenic.” Why does she feel she has to pry into every aspect of my life? Why did I agree to come to this place?
“Autumn, please work with me here. What about your mom?”
“She divorced my dad.” I’m sure she senses the sarcastic tone in my voice. I don’t care. I just want this to all be over with. I want to go home and write in my journal. I don’t need a therapist; I’m strong enough to help myself. This woman, this creature, sitting in front of me can’t even take care of herself. “Do you have kids, Dr. Saunders?” If she wants to talk about family, we can talk about her family.
“We’re here to talk about you, Autumn.”
“Would you send your daughter to a place like this? Would you send her away to talk to a stranger because dealing with her would be a burden? Would you send her away to rehab, just so you didn’t have to look at her every day?”
That’s who my mom is. That’s what I am to her. I’m nothing more than a little…
“Honestly, Autumn? I’d give anything just to spend one more day with my daughter.”
“I guess not all mothers feel that their children are the spawn of Satan.”
“Not all mothers lose their children either.”
What did I just do?
“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Good one, genius.
“How could you have known?” How can she still be happy? Her smile is genuine and real. What’s her secret? “Now then, should we talk about what you like about your mom?”
“That is my mother, Dr. Saunders. What’s there to like?”
She’s not seriously this oblivious, is she?
“I’m sure there’s something nice you remember about her. Think back to when you were younger.”
The mother I had then and the mother I have now are two very different people. The mother I had then used to tuck me into bed at night. She’d let me read to her before I went to bed, even if I pronounced most of the words wrong. She’d hang my pictures up on the refrigerator and tell everyone I was an artist. She’d sing to us. My mother had an amazing voice. I wonder if she remembers any of this. I wonder if she remembers the day she was laying on the couch and my sisters and I were sitting on top of her, playing “I Spy”, when my step-dad came home. He got down on his knee and proposed to her and she said yes. I was the only one that was excited for them. I knew he was going to be a much better person than my father ever was, but my sisters never saw it the way I did. They married a few years later, and my dad tried everything in his power to get us taken away from her. I knew she would never let that happen though. My mother loved us.
“Autumn, are you okay? Did you remember something?”
I was so caught up in memories that I didn’t notice the tears. It hurts to cry. It hurts far worse than any blade. That’s why I can’t let it happen again. If I give her an answer, she’ll let me go. Our time is up.
“No, I don’t remember. I’m sorry.”
© 2012 BlackFairytales
Added on June 17, 2011
Last Updated on May 30, 2012
People who liked this story also liked..