Acid Rain by R.D Rhodes (literature books to read .txt) 📗

Loose-Sin-da, but you can call me Sin-dee. And I’m a psy-co-thera-pist.”

Jesus.

“NOW,” she rang her voice back out, her enthusiasm rising higher than ever, “WE ARE ALL GOING TO TALK ABOUT HOW WE ARE FEELING TODAY! AND I DON’T MEAN GEN-ERALLY, BUT HOW YOU ALL REALLY FEEL!! THIS IS YOUR OPPORTUNITY TO GET ALL YOUR ANGER AND SADNESS AND ANY PROBLEM YOU MAY HAVE OFF OF YOUR CHEST. AISHA, WHY DON’T YOU START US OFF, SWEET-PEA?”

Her grin got wider and wider until I thought she might burst. She was in a real state of excitement and it didn’t look like she could contain it. It didn’t look like she had an original thought in her head. She didn’t seem all there. What the hell is she doing trying to fix us? I thought. Is that what she is here to do?

She kept looking at me through her glasses and I didn’t know what to say. Could I trust her? Could she really help? I had a lot I wanted to ask about, starting with the medication and the assault I’d had forced upon me. But I waited. I decided to see what the others had to say first.

She kept grinning those pale, grey teeth.

I shook my head.

“Are you sure? Nothing at all? We’re all friends here, sweetie.”

“No.”

 “Oh! Hm, okay. That’s fine. That’s fine. Now, maybe you’ll have something to add later then?! Since it’s your first day we’ll let someone else go first. Now, um- DEAN? CAN YOU GET US STARTED OFF?!”

With apparent great effort, a forty-something man with straggly hair raised his head and looked back at her sorrowfully. He was stocky more than fat, and it had maybe been due to losing weight in the past, but he had a thick layer of loose skin that dangled from his cheeks and chin and made him look like a German shepherd dog. That loose skin seemed to weigh down every feature on the rest of his face, upturning the corners of his lips into a perpetual frown, dragging his eyes downwards, and curling his eyebrows in.

He looked back at her. Then he drew back his shoulders and sighed deeply, the air shooting out his nose like a whoopee cushion being deflated.

Cindy’s enthusiastic eyes returned his weary, pleading, leave me alone stare. Her brows were raised to the roof as she kept smiling that same encouraging smile.

Seeing that she wouldn’t let him off, Dean again drew back his brawny shoulders. Sucking in deeply, looking like he was preparing to climb the last hundred meters of Everest, he replied, without a hint of passion, “I’m feelin,.. good.”

Cindy nodded vigorously several times, reminding me of Ed, one of the hyenas in the Lion King. “And what have you been doing lately? Have you been doing any more of your painting?”

He didn’t answer, just hunched over a bit more and clasped his hands. It didn’t seem to discern her though, and she kept waiting… and waiting…

The radiator gurgled. I felt my eyelids pulling down. It’s so hot, I thought. They must be on full blast.

I looked back at the young girl who was still chewing her nails. The pale light from the window behind her was shining on the back of her head, lighting up her hairline like a faded halo. I gazed out at the unkempt allotment and at the derelict, triangular building and I thought about how much everything had gone to pot in this place. Why couldn’t we be out there, working in that garden- planting trees, pruning shrubs, growing vegetables, just doing anything?

My eyelids dropped again, and I forced my head up and tried to focus on the ceiling’s intricate cornices. They must have taken ages to make.  What about that paneling? Where did they get the wood from? How many trees would it have taken for that one wall alone?

“JOHN!”

I almost jumped off my seat.

“WHAT ABOUT YOU? ARE YOU FEELING ANY BETTER THAN YOU DID LAST WEEK?”

The guy with the twitch lowered his eyes to the floor. He seemed ashamed, like a naughty kid caught doing something wrong and being forced to confess. His left eye kept blinking open and shut. Some sort of a nervous thing or maybe he’d had brain damage.

 “I’m fine.” he said.

“Yes. Go on…And?” she coaxed.

But that was all she got.

A trace of frustration set into her eyes. Nobody seemed keen to talk, but no much wonder. I felt a strong pang of empathy for the group. I wanted to help them, but what could I do?

“Nothing more to say, John?”

….

She sighed, “RIGHT! Let’s move on then- NINA! How are you?”

The young girl had the look of a deer caught in the headlights. She stared back at Cindy, wild-eyed, then dropped her gaze to the floor, retreating back behind the shelter of her hair.

“F-f-fine. I’m fine.” She said quietly.

“Have you been listening to your music?”

“Yes.”

“And what were you listening to today?”

The young girl began to jitter. Her hands moved spasmodically about her body. A single tear ran down her cheek and sat on the bottom of her chin, ready to drop.

“Have you had any dreams lately, Nina? How have you been sleeping?”

Another tear dripped off her nose, then another and another, and she buried her face in her hands. “Not good.” She squeaked.

“And why not good?” Cindy pushed. “What did you dream about- was it what the man did again?”

Nina arched her back and sat upright, keeping her face covered as she wept silently. In the window's light, I could see black strands of her hair floating from her head to the ground like she was a tree shedding leaves. The silence in the room was terrible.

“It’s okay Nina. Was it the man again?”

Her whimpers grew louder, until suddenly a high-pitched animal sound wailed out from her throat. She sniffed and choked. The top of her head nodded.