The walls should have been painted a happier color. Maybe blue, or green, or yellow. Anything but the blinding white that made me feel trapped, sick, even. And the clock, did they have to buy such a loud clock? Every minute I sat on the uncomfortable couch I could hear the hands ticking my life away. It was like a punch in the gut every single fucking time.


Everything about this place was uncomfortable. The air was cold and stale. Just being here, I could feel the pain that everyone else has gone through. So many people had cried in this very spot, poured their hearts out to someone who didn't even care. And now I'm one of them. The pictures hanging on the wall made me feel like shit. 'Hang in there!' they said, but I crashed my car into a phone pole instead. Aside from the small table in front of me with a box of tissues on it, the only other thing that made this look any different than a cell was a computer desk and the woman sitting in front of it. She was typing away, charing me, and we hadn't even spoken yet.


"So Jack.. Is it all right if I call you that, Jack?"


"Uh. Yeah. That's kind of my name."


She nodded and began to type again. Probably putting in that I have a bad attitude. I hadn't told my mom, or Ember, or anyone, but I'd done my research on this sort of shit. When I told this stranger what was going on, she'd set up a date for me to go be evaluated, to see if I'm sick in the head like my dad was. It scared the living shit out of me. A part of me even wanted to lie to her, to pretend I'm fine so I don't have a mental health record following me around for the rest of my life.


"Care to tell me why you decided to come to me today?"


"No, not really."


"Come now, Jack," she smiled, sliding her chair away from the desk so that she was sitting right in front of me. She had blonde hair and plump cheeks, with dark bags under her eyes. This job would kill her before my illness killed me. "You elected to come here for help. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on."


"Why? So you can send me to a better doctor, put me through a bunch of stupid tests and give me a record? No thanks."


"Those things are kept private, you know. At the most your regular doctors and future employers would be able to see them. But you mentioned something about going after a musical career in your form. Jack, the best artist are those who have suffered."


My eye twitched with her words. Mostly because she told me other people could view my chart, but a little because she gave me hope. If that were true, if going through with all of this wouldn't fuck up my future, what did I have to lose? I was doing this for Ember. I just had to think of Ember.


"So you read about my dad, then, in my form?"


"Absolutely. But there's no need to think you'll be anything like him."


"See, that's just the thing. I'm afraid I might be. Lately I haven't been able to control my emotions. I'm either happy, crying or in a complete fit of rage, hurting the people around me.. I've done some unspeakable things and I just want something, or someone, to fix me. I can't keep doing this."


"Would you say you ever have thoughts of self-harm, Jack? Maybe suicide?"


"Yes and no," I answered honestly, putting my head down to avoid her gaze. "I think of hurting myself so I don't have to hurt anyone else."


"What about physically hurting other people, would you say you think about that a lot?"


"No. I mean, I think about it when the rage gets to me, but other than that.. I'm a lover, not a fighter."


"Good to hear," she smiled, sliding back over to her computer. She was typing away, barely even remembering I was there. "Can you tell me when all of this started?"


"No. It just sort of happened."


When her fingers were done typing, she moved her body so she could see me more clearly. Her face was serious, but her eyes were gentle, like she deeply gave two shits about my well-being.


"Do you think you need more serious help? Medication?"


"Y-Yes," I frowned, tapping my feet against the floor. "I- I- Just," I let out a sigh, having a hard time finding the right words. "None of this goes back to my mom, right?"


"Unless it's life threatening, no."


"Okay. Well, there's this girl. And I absolutely love her, but she seems to be my target. It kills me because this is how it started with my dad. This girl is amazing. She's everything to me and I can't imagine my life without her.. But if I don't get better, I can't stay with her. I can't do that to her."


She smiled, a very small smile that gave me hope. Like she understood that I wasn't talking about teenage puppy love, but real love. The forgiving, unconditional, whole-hearted love you only see in movies.


"Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to send you for an evaluation later this week. You'll be there for at least eight hours so dress for the occasion. You'll go through a series of tests and then they'll release you. When you come back for our next session, we'll go over the results together. Either you'll be assigned to stick it out with me until you think you can manage on your own, or you'll be given medication to help you out along with the therapy sessions."


"That's it? It's that easy?"


"It's that easy," she smiled, standing up to flatten out her dress. "But don't be fooled, child, you've got a long, hard road ahead of you. Just think of that girl when you feel like you can't take anymore."


"I always do."


"So, I will see you next week. Until then, be good and take care of yourself."


"Thank you," I whispered, wrapping my arms around this woman even though I was instructed not to touch her. "For helping me."


"On you go," she chuckled, patting my back before shoving me out of the door. "You're gonna be just fine, kiddo."


Honestly, I was nervous about my evaluation, but I felt a little more content with my life. Ember would be happy to know I was actually going through it, but until I get home, I have to deal with my mom. She was sad that I was here in the first place, afraid that it was her fault for keeping my dad around for so long.


Exiting the building, I walked into the parking lot with my hands in my pockets. Mom was sitting in the car, flipping through a magazine. She'd offered to come in with me, but just as I told Ember, I needed to do this alone. Sliding into the car, mom jumped, smiling when she realized it was me.


"How did it go?"


"I have to go get an evaluation later this week," I sighed, putting my hand over hers. "But I'm going to fine. No matter what happens, she said I'm going to be fine."


Mom smiled, leaning over to kiss my cheek. There was nothing more that needed to be said. I was doing something my dad never had the courage to do, I was getting help. The entire way home, I thought of Ember and how I was doing this for her. That alone made me a better person than dad ever was. I was willing to walk through Hell for the woman I loved.
When we got home, mom gave me a long hug and then we parted ways. She went off to find Carl, to tell him what was going on with me, while I ventured upstairs to knock on Ember's door. She answered it with a nervous face, hopeful that the session hadn't set me off. I grinned and walked her back into her room, closing the door behind me.


"It wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be," I mumbled, bending down to brush my lips against hers. "I go this week to find out if I need meds. You won't think of me any differently, will you, if they think I'm a mental case?"


"No, baby," she smiled, running her fingers through my hair. I always thought it was cute when she made herself taller just to be closer to me. "I'm so proud of you for doing this."


"It's all for you, Ember. Everything I do, I do for you."


She wrapped her fingers around my hand and pulled me to her bed. Laying me down on the mattress, she curled up against my chest and held my arm against her body. It was such a peaceful feeling, the first time I've felt calm in weeks.


I'm going to be okay.

Notes

Awwwh<3.