Crush - Pilot Chapter

Crush - Pilot Chapter

A Story by B30

Crush - Pilot Chapter.

My arms gripped firmly and tightly as my laps flapped over the other. Time was just stalling, waiting as I prevented myself from imagining the unwanted necessaries. A knock on the door and the lapse was gone, as a man in black-strapped suit steps in. 

"You're Ben?" He asks, as we stare for a couple of seconds before he starts to move to his overly-uncleared desk. 

"Yes. You're Doctor Teal Hayes?" 

"Just call me Doctor Hayes or Teal if you may. My patients also call me TH. DTH if you implement the tag." He spoke so smoothly, accompanying it with a vibrant smile. He seemed ready to work, despite his previous program being left behind when he unoccupied the room before the one we were in. "So, this must be your first time getting in touch with a psychiatrist I suppose?" 

"Yes doctor, or Teal. I've never been to other therapeutic sessions and this is my first," he caught my eye when I spied the room, my face still triggering towards him. 

"Well then, you must be feeling rather nervous." He flips to an open page on one of his brownish-coloured booklets and clicks his pen. "I think you might want to start from the beginning." 

"I, I'm sorry Teal. I'm not really sure, or exact if I can really just 'start from the beginning'." My hands were clenched in fury, but still the tension had to be ceased or I would have to break the dust through punching into wooden-sized tables. 

"It's okay. Here," he stretches his arms as he passes me a cup of water from the side of his desk that was readily filled. "Don't worry, it's not poison. It'll cleanse you and just calm you down. It's water, definitely." 

Remotely, that was a senseless thought that poked into my mind. It's understandable and nonsensical that a psychiatrist I had just met 5 minutes ago would turn into my worst nemesis. "Thanks," and I gulped it down. 

"So," he rubbed his hands as he looked thoroughly at me. "Why not start from a point you're comfortable with." 

The thing is, there was no point I was comfortable with. "I'm sorry Doc, I just have issues with myself at the moment," I hung my head low. "You see, there's many things I just can't trust myself with." 

"That so?" 

"Yes," I replied. 

"What's the thing keeping you from telling me what it is that you want to say?" The problem was, I don't know doctor. All I know was my mind was swirling at the mention of her name. So crazy, irritating and maldysfunctional that I just couldn't swing it out. To my surprise, I was amazed he wasn't shocked when I shrunk in and decided that I wasn't going to speak up for a little while. "Do you suffer from anything Ben?" 

"Well, bipolar. Bipolar disorder." I choked on it. I knew that was disgraceful. I myself knew that this was the truth, yet I seemed to cloak my face from the innocence of Teal. What was I doing? 

"Bipolar disorder?" He scrutinised my expression. "Have you any medication, is everything alright?" 

"That was what I thought but I never really seeked help for it. I've had other problems to cope with. Illnesses such as bruxism and, uh, depression do kick in daily. And these illnesses are something people can vouch for." 

"It's okay. It's not a pending disease, I'm sure. All you need is just the right amount of supervision. It'll all work out." Teal said it specifically easily, but there's only the tone and the underbelly of the sentence that made me wonder if I should seek his help more often than having to take out a pen and pad to scribble around. "I understand your conditions. Now, surely you've a problem, that's why you've come to see me right?" 

"I've," imitating the rubbing hands sequence that he had portrayed just before, I decided to come clean. "Well, I've liked someone for five years," I continued. 

"Someone? Five years? You meant something like an admiration; lust?" 

"More like a crush." I jumped in my mind. To say that last word was almost jaw-dropping and voracious to me. It's like a word that should be thrown in hell and never to be retrieved. 

"That's what most teenagers say and I believe to be, rather, whimsical. Tell me more, Ben. Tell me how you guys first met." 

From a mountainous history background to a rather changed perspective, I started to realise that letting out is better than holding it in. "It was the year 2009, if I recall. Things were shifty, tragic and, sometimes better off unsaid." 

And so I told Teal about the mysterious adventures of learning how to be equipped with secondary school knowledge. It was the first day of school and a large drawing map laid behind me along with 6 of my yet unknown classmates. We had to each write our names on it so that the map would soon become a flag, that would represent our group and our class. 

"So stupid," said Shamus as our attention gazed upon him. "Well, if we're going to do something better, we could just wrap this damn thing and ride it out like a championship flag. Whaddaya' say?" The idea was excellent in my opinion, but with little background of who he is, the quiet approach is the best answer. 

"All of you've written your names?" Called out our team captain. We nodded in synchronise fashion, simultaneously agreeing. "Alright. Hey James! We're done!" He waved it back and the paper was soon transported back. 

Ice-breaking games of disappointment and annoyance was just hourly passing by. My heart wasn't in it fully, and I was glad that it ended finally. As we were picking our seats, I was just genetically short in nature, and was just thrown into the front row due to my height. Things were rather dim and lightweight; that day, other than a monumental memory, nothing else seemed to matter as much. The tables were aligned so I was packed in the middle of the bunch, while a small gap was parked just on the right of the other set of tables. 

I was a blur mishap. I was disturbed and rather, quiet when it came to far-sight capture. I was short-sighted, but nothing complimented me more than having the confidence to equip myself with the spectacles that I hardly took out from the front pocket of my bag. So when the teachers had chosen to write most of the to-do's on the board, my eyes were squinted so as to carefully read the contents. However, there was also something else I had to squint my eyes at. 

Seated diagonally right-back to where I was seated, was magical. "This may sound cheesy," I said quietly, assuring myself that Teal was able to hear the words perspicuously. There she was: pale, pony-tailed, dark eye-lids, comfortable, classy and vibrant. She was something out of a novel that teenagers read nowadays. 

"Did you know her name?" Teal asked, breaking the whole cloud of memory. He raised his hands thereafter as if to indicate that he was apologising for his question. 

"Rachel," I said condescendingly. From then, I carefully reviewed my actions, as if to say show less and less awkwardness when mouthing her name. 

"Rachel? That's a rather delicate name. I suppose it's like at first sight?" 

"Yeah." How could I ever say no? She captured most of the attention and she was especially charming. She didn't seem to care as much about her surroundings, but I was just eyeing her everytime with opportunity. And so I told Teal. That day was like a mis-match of occasions all jumbled up into one. But I was happy I got to know her. "In fact, we were even in the same class for four years. I just dropped off on the fourth year and, the fifth, I kinda' just dropped to the other class." 

"Bad grades?" I nodded. "It's okay. But I don't get how she was as regal as to get stuck on your mind for so many years." 

"That's the problem doc. I'm split up into two roads: I either take a left and just divorce myself from it fully, or just live in doubt knowing that I'll never get her, nor even have the chance to say I tried. I know my standards and I know her standards. There's an awful boundary waiting to keep me out if I ever cross the fine line." 

"That's where depression kicks in." 

"Yeah. And bruxism that keeps me waning in my sleep. I don't know what to do." I just feel like tearing my limbs apart. But what am I doing? For someone that doesn't care about me as much as I do about her? 

"You know, why not take a step back. I am a believer in taking firm stands, so, do you still like her?" 

"Ah," was all I could come up with. I knew I was lying if I said no, but even distrustful to the fact if I said yes. "I don't think I could try." 

"Just try it. You never know." 

"But it's already five years too late. She has a boyfriend, she's occupied with her shopping spree. I'm just going to cut a thread off her from a completely easy-going life. While I'm, not exactly suffering but, just in denial and slipping down." As soon as I pressed on the last word, Teal had to double check his watch. 

"Time passes by when you talk about intriguing stuff Ben. I think we'll have to end here." 

"I suppose. But I don't think I can make it next week." 

"Oh? Do you have an appointment with another doctor?" 

"No, I'm loyal. I think I might have some thing else on, so I'd imagine doing in walk-in or some sort." That was a big ask, but I decided to try it anyway. 

"Well, the only days I'm free up left are Sundays." He speaks as he pushes his hands far out. 

"I could do Sundays." 

"Sundays are the times where I spend together with my family," Teal says as his face seems to be describing as if he had failed. "But I could do Sundays, if that's fine with you." 

"You know it's okay, I can try to come back the next week." 

"No no no," Teal insisted. "It's okay. We could do an hour and maybe I can buy you dinner." He was magnificent in professional personal conversations. 

"That is just too much." 

"It's my job Ben. You take care." We shook hands and I left the room with the same bout as before. However, this time, things were starting to shoulder off. I've been able to talk to someone other than my best friend, which seems chronological almost, since I needed more advice and someone that would truly feature personal talk than just conversations that don't matter at all. I boarded the bus directly just outside of Hayes Therapies and was soon on my way home. Flipping out my phone, a message was received while I was in the room with Teal. 

"You playing tonight? Lionel's here too, so is King. We could just do some random stuff and maybe have fun." Jun Hao, one of my best friends whom I confide in and vice-versa, was just surprising to be sending me a message. It was terribly unlike him to say the first sentence, but I was eager to finally get to play again. With a cold and a measurable flu that had troubled me for the past few days, I wasn't even able to get near the keyboard. For now, I was better, definitely. At the same time, I used my hands to grappled for my earphones while they hid inside my pockets. My phone was just a relevance for me. It consisted multitudes of genres and pictures, and just also about her. I had to admit, I'm a stalker on Twitter and Instagram and this habit is about to land me in deeper mess for sure. It's just too hard to keep away. 

She's had the habit of uploading pictures that seemed to suit her. Five years of being able to read her, that was just psychic, though I plan on ditching it anyway. Today was Friday, the end of the exams and the end of an important chapter. While I contemplate and finally seeked help through Teal, she was hanging out with her lovely friends. How amazing, I thought to myself. So rapturous that this feeling really gripped onto me, that it's suffocating every bit of oxygen left in my brain. Her dresses are simply astounding, colourful and fragrant. It was almost as if I could smell it away, but I was just perverted to be thinking in that direction. It never made sense to me why I would ever stalk her. But I did, eventually, so I hoped that it would all work out. Still, this pain was just manifesting my thoughts and my dreams. I could never have faced myself in the same way as I thought it would be, but I guess I did. 

I opened up ColourTexts, an application which I have installed and it served the purpose that I had been looking for: to be able to write on mobile. That was all I asked for, and while other memos did work for a short-period, this one did it's job the finest. I could write reviews of songs, write songs, or even craft stories. All of this were just hobbies and passion, something cool kids don't know about. What do they know? Clubbing, partying and just losing yourself in whiskey and shots. I was a gamer as well, but since Grand Theft Auto 5's release, I haven't been keeping up with pace. All I wanted to do was just write, and write, and write. It was something I could indulge in, something that would keep me realistically sane and on my feet. Without it, I feel plain and simple. It's definitely not my future; there's no future in being a novelist. My dad was hard at work, but ever since he's lost his job six months ago, he's been patting my back and redirecting my focus. He knew it, but he wanted me to be bigger. 

"Try a manager, maybe a doctor or something high-profile like a lawyer," he said. I could understand why. Hefty paychecks in this industry is what something, or rather, everything everyone is looking out for. With big dollar bills and expensive sources, you could hang your boots up whether you have one or not. While I'm trying to convince my dad that 'it's my life', a phrase which has become a staple in every teenagers minds and mouths, it really doesn't depend on it. A vast knowledge of life is what my dad had, though incomprehensible, I would rather live the life I'd be begging for than have trouble fishing for something with a bigger cheque and not feel happy at the end of the day. I know his wishes and I know what he means. But sometimes, there's not much to live for if you don't go for the things you love. And I love to write. Maybe, but music has also been an outlet for me to put my words out. It's not something everyone can say, and certainly not something everyone loves to do. 

The bus finally arrived at the void deck of my house. It was fifty minutes past four, and I just recalled my dad and mom coming down to my aunt's house here in the West. Yeah, it's a really cruel way of saying 'I don't live with my parents'. But it's true. I do live with my aunt and uncle, both of whom I've grown with since I was born. I could speak to them about anything, and that's a much better welcome than my dad or mom. Though my aunt's usually more stellar and my uncle more mature. As I climbed up the stairs, laughter could be heard outside. With a tidied heart and a fixed mindset, I decided that it's time to put the rest away for now. I've been reading myself like an open book. As if I was dusted off, I was more than ready. Seconds passed, and I decided to thrust my feet in the opened door to my aunt's house. 

"I'm home," I called. And to my surprise, my close cousin, Kenji, had just appeared and seemed to be having fun on my laptop. That's something I don't see often, ever since I stayed with my aunt for the past two years. I've missed the times we spent watching Spongebob and playing his Xbox. Good times, I murmured as I focused back onto the current situation. 

© 2013 B30

Author's Note

Please tell me if there are grammar problems! And if you guys like it I may do more! I think it depends on whether I have time though. Thanks for readings!

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Added on September 20, 2013
Last Updated on September 21, 2013
Tags: Crush B30 Ben Teal Hayes




My real name is Benny. B30 is my alter-ego in everything I do. I aspire to be pretty much a: director, host, actor, artist, writer and a poet. Although these are just a few, I love writing rhy.. more..

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