Ahh now we’re getting somewhere…
In his years as a psychiatrist, the doctor had heard most of everything about depression. However, this was the first time he’d seen actual evidence of self injury, and it made his skin crawl.
“I see, but I don’t need to see your scars.”
The boy also nodded.
“And that’s why you’ll never understand. You think you know everything about people’s feelings. You can’t ever understand… no one older than about 20 does.”
“Perhaps you’re right.. but understanding is not my job. Helping people is my job.”
The boy’s emerald eyes darkened.
“Looks like you’re outa luck there too. No one can help me…”
“There’s always someone who can help.. but that’s a bit further down the road. Since you’re starting to talk now, can you tell me about yourself?”
“Well, don’t you want to know my name?”
The doctor shook his head.
“I already know your name. It’s Nathaniel, remember?”
The boy nodded and reclined in the bed.
The doctor smiled with an easy expression upon his face.
The boy gave a demonic look, but the doctor seemed unfazed.
“Can you tell me… why you are here?”
The boy huffed.
“Because my parents made me.”
The doctor nodded.
“I see.. and why did they make you?”
“They saw what, Nathaniel?”
His dark stare intensified.
“You know what I mean…” he replied in a malevolent tone.
“Mmm, your scars, correct?”
Nathaniel nodded slowly. The doctor leaned forward and took off his glasses.
“You know, from what I’ve heard…” he trailed off, gazing into the blue shade covering the walls, then continued.
“From what I’ve heard, self-injurers go to great lengths to conceal their wounds.”
The doctor nodded.
“Hmm, might I ask how your parents saw then?”
“I just wasn’t careful enough, I guess…”
“You guess? Hmm, those scars don’t seem too hard to conceal. It’s not too hot to wear a long sleeved shirt.”
Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed.
“What are you getting at?