Chapter 2
Imogen
Fuck, I love my job.
As of this year, I gained my doctorate in psychology. I have worked my ass off to get here and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I spent years upon years with my face stuck in textbooks and suffering through long painful classes, and it’s finally paid off.
So much went into getting this far, but being here now, at the end of all that study, doing what I love and getting paid for it. I’m so damn proud of myself. Getting this far is already an achievement in itself, but actually being able to put my skills into action and help children destroy their demons, that’s the real prize.
I sit in the office which I’ve had since the beginning of the year with one of my newest clients, Brandon. He’s eleven years old and has just been taken away from his parents due to the unbelievable level of physical abuse they were throwing his way. I mean, it’s our first session and he hasn’t said a single word to me yet, but I can already see the pain he has had to suffer through from the hands of his parents.
His arms are covered in scars from where they’ve used him as an ashtray. He has a recent pink scar through the center of his right eyebrow and he’s severely underweight for his age. Though, that’s just the things I can see. I know for a fact that after reading his file, there’s a lot more damage that’s been done to this poor child.
Not to mention, the mental and emotional scarring. His eyes flick around the room as if he’s constantly preparing himself for the worst. He’s jumpy and terrified to talk, and now, it’s my job to help him move forward with a new life. One where he doesn’t have to be afraid. One where he can be strong and stand up for himself. One where he’ll never have to suffer at the hands of his parents again.
To me, all children are special, but I prefer to work with the ones who truly need it. I generally work with children in the system who have recently been removed from a bad situation. Children just like Brandon.
Don’t get me wrong. It’s honestly the hardest job on this planet, but extremely rewarding. Learning about these kids and what they’ve been through tears at my soul, but I’m happy to go through this journey with them if it means I’m able to help them in some small way.
Brandon’s eyes flick across the room as he sits on the very edge of the couch. I stand from my desk and slowly walk around so I stand before him. His eyes watch my movements and my heart breaks at how ridged his body is.
“Hi, Brandon,” I say as I slowly take a seat in the couch opposite him. His eyes flick up to meet mine before instantly going straight back down to his lap. “My name is Imogen and I’m really happy to be meeting with you today,” I tell him. “I’ve heard a lot about you, and if it’s ok with you, I’d like to get to know you a bit better.”
With that, he silently looks up. His eyebrows crease as he watches me for a moment and it’s clear he’s wondering why I’d like to get to know him. “I just want to let you know that this is a safe place,” I tell him as I slowly wave my hand around the room, not wanting to frighten him with any sudden movements. “What that means is that it’s ok for you to talk with me, and whatever you may or may not want to share with me, is going to be just for my ears. Our secrets, unless you decide otherwise. Does that make sense?”
He nods his head ever so slightly and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I was afraid he wouldn’t respond at all, but the fact that he has tells me he’s willing to give it a try and I’ll be able to help him a little easier.
Noticing he’s still sitting like a robot, I relax back into my own couch and cross my legs. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable,” I tell him. “Would you like a drink or anything to eat?”
He shakes his head but slowly leans back into the couch before pulling his legs up under himself and making me one of the happiest therapists on the planet. “How has your day been so far?” I ask him as I reach for my own glass of water and take a sip.
He shrugs his shoulders and I launch into my own rundown of my day, hoping that might help to get him to relax and open up. “I’ve had a pretty awful day myself,” I tell him. “I accidentally spilled my coffee all down my brand new dress in my new car,” I groan as I pull back the front of my jacket and point out the nasty coffee stain.
His lips lift in a smirk and I keep going. “I was too far away from home to turn around so I had to suck it up, luckily, I had my jacket with me. I’m afraid my dress is ruined and I haven’t had a chance to check on my car yet, but I’m assuming it’s going to need a good clean.”
He nods his head, agreeing that my car will indeed need a good clean. “I hope your morning wasn’t as bad as mine,” I comment as I place the glass back on the table.
He shakes his head as his eyes lift to mine. “No,” he says ever so silently. “Today has been fine.”
“That’s good,” I tell him, pleased he was able to speak up. “What have you done so far?”
With that, he finally gives me a little more. It’s a slow process, but half an hour in, he’s finally relaxed enough that he’s been able to tell me about the foster family he’s been temporarily staying with. I’ve met the parents and they’re all good, though I hate that he’ll be moved around more until he can find somewhere permanent.
He tells me about the children in the family he’s staying with and how there’s a little girl he gets along with. The comment brings a smile to my face and I’m happy he has someone his own age that he can talk with. The connection with a friend could do wonders for him.
We’re just about done for today when a gust of wind comes flowing through the cracked window with such force that it knocks the photo frame right off my wall. The frame instantly drops to the ground and the glass shatters.
The sound has Brandon dropping to the floor with his arms protectively covering his head and his eyes clenched. “No, no, no,” he begs in a tone that has my soul shattering.
Shit.
I drop to the floor beside him and ever so gently I place a hand on his back. “Brandon,” I say in the calmest voice I can possibly manage. “You’re safe. It’s me, Imogen. You’re ok.”
His eyes open at my voice and I talk him through taking a few slow deep breaths which I take with him. He eventually manages to sit up and together we lean up against the couch. “I’m so sorry,” I tell him. “Had I known that would have happened, I would have closed the window.”
He nods his head again before reaching out and touching his fingers to my wrist, almost as if he’s trying to soothe me. “I’m ok,” he murmurs through a voice that I have to strain to hear.
I look up at the clock and see we still have twenty minutes of our session when I decide that I’m going to take another approach with him.
Brandon doesn’t strike me as the type to really enjoy sitting in an office being forced to talk about his feelings. So, needing to build a positive relationship with him and wanting to salvage what’s left of our time, I look over to him. “What do you say we get out of here and check on the damage I’ve done to my car?”
A smile takes over his face before he nods his head. I get myself to my feet and reach a hand down to help him up. Whether he uses my hand is up to him and I’m pleased when he does. He comes to his feet before me and practically comes right up to my eye level. I swear, he’s just an inch shorter than me and I have no doubt this kid is going to be crazy tall.
“What do you think we need?” I question as I dive through the drawer of my desk to find the antibacterial wipes that I keep in here. I pull them out and hold them up to him in question. He nods his head and I tuck the wipes under my arm before grabbing my keys. “Alright, let’s go.”
We walk out into the waiting area of my office and pass his guardian, Katia. I let her know we’ll be outside and she sends us on our way.
Five minutes later, I have Brandon sitting in the passenger’s seat of my car while I make myself look busy with the cleaning wipes, though really, I’m listening to the way the distraction of the car has him opening up and chatting about his family’s car.
I hand him a wipe and watch as the activity has him completely loosening up. Just like that, my whole plan for him has changed. From now on, his time sitting in my office will be limited. The more I can keep him active and busy, the more I’ll be able to help.
At the end of our appointment, I happily send him off with his guardian feeling like I’ll truly be able to make a difference in his life. He has a long way to go to get past the abuse he has suffered through, but I feel there’s no reason why he won’t be able to live a happy and healthy life.
At the end of the day, I pull my phone out of my bag and send a text message to my best friend, Izzy.
Imogen – You coming over tonight? I’ve had a big day.
She responds almost instantly.
Izzy – Yep. I’ll bring the wine.
Imogen – Thank God. I’ll see you later.
Izzy – xx
I get home after a massive week and I couldn’t be happier that it’s Friday night. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love my job, but it’s emotionally draining. Especially today after meeting Brandon. My heart broke when that photo frame smashed as it made me realize just how bad he has had it. I mean, seeing it written down on paper is not the same as meeting the child in the flesh. I just hope I can truly make a difference in his life.
For some reason, I feel a connection with this child and it’s important for me to give him my absolute all.
I have hardly taken my shoes off before Izzy is knocking at my door. I open it up and she practically falls through. “Hey, hoochie,” she sings as she struts past me and heads straight for the kitchen. I follow her in and go about pulling two wine glasses down from the top shelf as she’s already busily opening the bottle. “What’s going on?”
“I have had such a massive week. All I need is to drink this wine and put my feet up,” I tell her.
“Sounds good to me,” she says as she picks up both glasses and hands one to me. She flips her blonde hair behind her shoulder before clinking her glass against mine. Together we head into my living room and collapse onto the couch.
I let out a sigh as I take the first sip. “Shit, I’ve been needing this,” I tell her.
“You and me both,” she says. “I broke up with Michael this morning.”
“What?” I shriek with wide eyes. “Why am I only hearing about this now? Are you ok?”
“I’m fine,” she says with a sigh. She was only dating him for a few weeks and wasn’t really feeling it, but I know it must be weighing on her heart at least a little. “You know I don’t like bothering you while you work.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I say as I scootch over and pull her into me. “I will always make time for you.”
“I know you will, that’s the problem. You should be dedicating all your time to helping those kids, not worrying about me.”
“But I like worrying about you,” I whine.
“I know,” she laughs. “That’s why I’m here now. I’m all yours to fuss over for the rest of the night.”
I look over at the bottle of wine on the kitchen counter and realize we’re going to need a lot more of that. “In that case,” I tell her as I grab her hand and hoist her up to her feet. “We’re going to The Dark Room.”
A grin takes over her face and I love that I’ve put it there. The Dark Room is Rylee’s club and every time we go there, we have an incredible time, though, that could also have something to do with the fact that Rylee always lets us drink for free.
“Really?” Izzy questions. “Are you sure? I thought you wanted an easy night?”
“I’ve never been so sure. We’re going out and we’re going to drink each other under the table and worry about whatever stupid shit we’re going to do tomorrow.”
“That sounds so good,” she says as we head into my bedroom and start pulling apart my closet.
Half an hour later, the contents of my closet are scattered across my room and the bottle of wine on the kitchen counter is completely empty. We call a taxi and before we know it, we’re pushing through the door of The Dark Room and having one of the best nights of our lives.