Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 48567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
I start choking on my spit.
“W-what?”
She grins.
“Kidding, I just wanted to see your reaction. He’s taking me out for drinks to celebrate my job, working for you, and because I think he actually likes me.”
I bolt from my desk, unaware that I’m using my power, my speed, to get right in her face, only aware when her jaw drops.
“You remember the rules. Only me. If his dick gets anywhere near you, his death will be on your conscience, do you understand?”
She leans up on her tiptoes and flicks me on the forehead. I stumble back. Stunned. Maybe more horrified than angry that she even dared to flick me.
“No you listen, I’m with you on the full moons and yes only yours then, but eventually I’ll need someone to spend my life with so until then, sure I won’t sleep around, but I will date and I will make friends since you’ve made it abundantly clear, we’re nothing.”
She jerks the papers from my hands, turns and walks away, and I swear it takes every ounce of strength within me not to throw my fucking desk through the window.
Again.
I'm still pissed when I arrive at my therapist’s office, I don’t even sit. No, I pace, back and forth, back and forth, I think I’m making her nervous because I saw her swallow a pill then say, “Do go on…”
Oh, I’ll fucking go on, for days I’ll go on.
Just like me and Ava, it was on and on and on and do NOT get a boner in front of your therapist. She’ll get the wrong idea!
"I will go on, thank you! Some respect.” I toss my jacket and put my hands on my hips.
“I just don’t understand, I mean, I’m technically doing her a bigger favor, I can handle the pain. I have handled…” I point at my therapist.
“…this for years, centuries! I can handle a few days a month, thank you very much!”
My therapist searches for her water and digs into her desk for another pill.
“So, when did you start having these hallucinations, do you think maybe this can be from the fact that this was your first time having sex and it maybe fell flat for her? Maybe even for you?”
“I WAS!” I scream, and then take a deep breath and pinch my nose.
“Amazing. Like a crescendo from Mozart.”
My therapist actually coughs into her hand, but I know she’s mocking me. Where’s a desk to throw? Maybe just throw her? Humans do just tend to sink once in the air.
I smile at the idea.
Nothing about my situation is normal, and now she’s on a date, a date with the guy I hate the most.
“And why do you hate him?” she asks.
Did I say that out loud?
I stop pacing.
“Xavier is a self-righteous prick who thinks he can beat me and wants everything I have, so it’s my job to hate him for existing. Everything I do he copies.”
“Maybe he admires you?”
“Maybe he just wants to take what I have because he thinks he can.”
She sighs and checks her watch.
“Well, our time is nearing its end, did you want to repeat the phrase for me?”
I loathe her.
I shake my head.
She stands and smooths out her gross brown skirt and adjusts her low white tailored shirt that’s tucked in to said skirt, she approaches. Is she wearing nylons? I mean nothing wrong with nylons, but it’s distracting because they blend into the skirt and what the hell is happening?
She reaches for my hands, then just grips them.
“We can say it together.”
I would literally, literally, rather choke on a Tic Tac and go out that way, a Dorito, maybe even a piece of gum, than recite this.
But she’s strong for a human and she doesn’t let go and her eye contact makes me uncomfortable.
I sigh.
“I will control the bad thoughts and angry feelings. I am human. I am normal. Normal people get angry, shout it out, say it loud, rage is normal, getting help means you know the problem and want to be the solution. I am the solution. I will be okay. I have control.” I want to say, better?
She pats me on the hand.
“Was that so hard?”
One hundred percent the most difficult thing, I might even compare it to wrestling a bear even though I’ve never had the opportunity.
“No.” I’m very good at lying to my therapists. What time is it? Is her date over?
"Good.” She starts rubbing the back of my hand.
“Now I have some sad news, I’m relocating to a different location, and won’t be able to do your treatment, so we’re bringing in Maximillian, but he goes by M.”
"M?” I frown.
“So he’s new?”
As she says this and releases my hand, a guy with thick dark blonde hair and black Ray Bans walks in, his jeans are ripped, he has a very tiny and I do mean tiny white t-shirt attached to his torso. He shoves her nameplate from the desk and adds his, then folds his hands and stares at me.