Enemy of Good

08/11/2023, Friday afternoon, 4 pm

Office of Rosalee Jones, Licensed Professional Counselor

A curse afflicts this time slot. I understand that with every bone in my body. The last thing anyone wants to do before skipping onto a raucous weekend is to dwell on personal demons for an hour. I’ve seen the same faces for years on end, and then there’s this, this time slot, where no client has made it past a few meetings. I wish I could say that was the only thing feeding my apathetic attitude today. But, watching her talk at me from across the room, I knew there was more to it.

The cursed time slot’s new occupant was a young girl named Chloe Paradis. She was high school age, blonde, petite, and athletic. Her lips moved like time lapses of exotic flowers with a precision that she must have rehearsed. And yet, any noise formed by her lips only scraped at my subconscious. My focus had been, in the whole, eaten by her eyes. A pale blue that drilled through mine with unmistakable judgment. The moment felt unreal as I stared at a girl whose features acted independently of each other. The soft flow of those lips did not belong on the same face with those soulless, unblinking eyes. I found myself questioning my role in this room and why I was even here, to begin with. Pondering my existential fate under her unwavering gaze. Attempting to remember why this girl even needed to be in my space.

Chloe granted me a reprieve from the relentless scrutiny when she spoke again. Her words finally broke through the fried membrane that was once my mind.

“If it’s alright with you, Miss Jones, I’d like to meet again at the same time next week.”

I felt disoriented, as if the world had been water and I had only then discovered oxygen. Never in my professional career, my own office that had built myself up to be inside, had I been at such a loss. Chloe’s lips had now pursed into a submissive smile, but her attention still burned into me. It was as if I were a clump of butter on a plate, and her eyes were space heaters hovering above me. Each nanosecond that passed was like a year, and I felt the weight of them all. I knew I needed to speak so that the judgment would end.

“That would be perfectly fine. I hope you got what you needed out of today’s session.”