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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1523673-Therapy-Session
Rated: E · Monologue · Drama · #1523673
A monologue I just thought up.
Four therapists, four therapists in ten years. I've been seeing one for ten years, ever since I was seven years old. Each of them with that same look, that same look of "Open Ears" just like you, right now. You want me to talk about it? I haven't been able to talk about it in ten years, what makes you think you're so special!? ...Don't look at me like that, don't, I, I know. If I don't talk about it they'll lock me up in some psych ward. I don't even know where to begin, he was my brother, how can I explain that?...You know, he was the first memory I have. I was four and he was eight and I remember I had just gotten a little car for my birthday, I thought it was so cool, with its dark red paint and lightning decals, I just sat in it pretending I was driving down the street, it getting faster and faster, and then, it began getting faster and faster. I looked behind me and it was Derek, my older brother, pushing me around the front yard. We had so much fun, we spent all day and night with that thing, him just pushing me around for hours. He was always like that. I remember when I was six I went out back and there he was, a glove over one hand and a baseball in the other, throwing it up and down, up and down, up....and down. I had been asking him for months to teach me to play Baseball and I guess, for some reason, he decided to that day. He handed be a Babe Ruth bat and for hours we played, all the way up till Dinner. He just kept tossing the ball and I kept swinging the bat...and missing. He just kept saying, "Eyes on the ball, Jimmy, eyes on the ball." He was my big brother, and he always took care of me, like, my first day of Kindergarten. I guess I had annoyed a third grader too much and he decided to beat me up after school, but of course, there Derek was. He took every punch that day, he was black and blue but he still didn't let that boy touch me. Then, the day came. It was was January, 1998, there was snow everywhere and we decided to take our sleds by the creek. He promised to take care of me, to watch out for me, and he did. ...I was being stupid and playing on the railings by the Creek. He just kept yelling for me to get down, that I was going to hurt myself and then what would mom and dad say. He...he was so focused on me he didn't see it coming. A truck had been driving on, minding it's own business when it hit a patch of ice and began spinning out of control, there was nothing he could do. I didn't, I didn't understand what was happening, I stuck out my hands and screamed, "NO, LOOK OUT!" but it was too late, Derek was gone. I looked around for him, but all I could see was the truck, screeching to a stop and smoke, and blood, lots of blood. Then I heard something behind me, I jumped down and spun around and there he was. Floating on the water, looking at me...watching me. I may not have understood much but I understood that my brother was dead, he was dead and it was all my fault. If I had stopped messing around, if I had listened to him he would still be alive. My brother, MY BIG BROTHER WAS DEAD AND IT WAS ALL MY FAULT!!!.........Four therapists, in ten years, and I have never told that to anyone.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1523673-Therapy-Session