The rain plopping against the window was supposed to be peaceful. It was day but the rain wasn’t helping. It felt bitter… dark. I knew it wasn’t right to throw a tantrum, but adults could be so unreasonable. Especially Mom. If Dad were here, he would never let mom yell at me. She always yells at me. Of course I get her ugly green eyes, curly brown hair.
“Optima! Ready for therapy, or throw another tantrum?” I always tell her I don’t need therapy. Though deep inside, I know that I need therapy. I just wanted to hide under my feelings, not face them.
Footsteps thump near my bedroom. Then knocks. The knocks felt loud and reminded me of the day the officer knocked on our door. Even though the car crash wasn’t dad’s fault, I couldn’t help but think that it was my fault. Dad had always been an angry person, but our fight had never meant to lead onto this.
“Come in.” Mom walked in.
She sat down on the bed, next to me. “Optima…Please try therapy. I know you’ll love it.” We both sat in silence. “Please… I don’t want to see you struggle.” Tears were in her eyes. I felt bad for her. She was the only family I had left. I took a deep breath. I was always a calm person, but right now it felt… wrong.
“Ok.” I said it so quietly, I wondered if Mom heard me. She did. She hugged me tightly. For a second, I could feel Dad hugging us, being a happy family. Mom left to get the car. I got myself mentally prepared. A few minutes later, I started walking towards the car.
“I want you to know that if you don’t like therapy, we can stop.”
I stayed quiet.
As we pulled into the parking lot, I could feel myself getting nervous. I told mom that I’ll come in after a minute. I thought about how horrible my life was. At school, I used to be popular. Now everyone shows pity for me.
“Ok, I’m going to check you in.”
I watched her leave. She was always perfect, even the way she walked looked perfect.
After a few minutes, I went inside. Mom was talking to a woman with funny looking
glasses.
The woman waved and smiled. “Hi! You must be Optima. I’m Amelia, your therapist!” She sounded gentle. “I’ll be waiting in my office. Come in when you’re ready. I have a few questions to ask before we start.” There. That’s what the officer said when he told us the heartbreaking news. He said he had a few questions.
Stop it, Optima. I thought. Everything reminds you of Dad. It’s not fair to Mom.
“Optima, stop that!” I barely heard what Mom said over my thrashing. I was breathing hard. “Sit down.” After a few minutes, Mom broke the silence. “Amelia’s waiting for you. Go inside. I’ll be right here, ok?” I nodded and slowly entered the room. I saw Amelia and to my surprise, she wasn’t wearing funny looking glasses. She was in a clown costume. I laughed. Suddenly I stopped. I hadn’t laughed since dad died.
“You can laugh,” Amelia said in her usual gentle voice. I stayed quiet. “Let’s talk. This is a free space.” We walked over to her desk. I noticed a picture of three happy people. The person in the middle looked like a young Amelia, the two people on the side looked like her parents.
I laughed, but unlike earlier my laugh was dark. “You think I want to talk about losing a parent.” I felt bad for talking to her in a rude voice, but Amelia’s face stayed the same. “You don’t know what it’s like-.”
“I do.” Her voice turned raspy. “I really do understand. When I found out what happened to your dad, I felt like therapy would help.”
“How would you know?” I snapped, pointing at the picture on her desk. “You have a family.”
Amelia looked down and looked back up again. She took the picture in her hands and held on it tight. Glossy eyes. “This picture was taken a few years back. My mom-” pointing to the woman in the picture “-was a healthy person. Until one day, the doctor told her she had Stage 3 kidney cancer.” Her eyes still looked glossy. “She died after a few months, but I told myself that I couldn’t fall apart. That would not make mom proud.” Amelia stayed quiet.
I was stunned. “When Dad first died about a few months ago, I felt like I was the only person that was going through this.”
“I’m not going to tell you to forget about your Dad, but I am going to tell you to do things that make you happy, something that would put the tragedy at the back of your head.” She smiled. “Think about what your dad would want you to do.” I nodded, thinking. “Tomorrow, if you decide to come back, we will talk more about this.”
I went home, and thought about what Amelia said. I thought about how I treated Mom. How I treated Amelia when she was just trying to be funny. Realized how unfair I was to everyone ever since dad died. The next day, I decided to change.
Mom knocked on my door and as she strided in, I could tell what she was going to ask. So before she asked I said, “Yes, Mom.”
Mom looked surprised, but didn’t say anything as she went to go get the car. I realized that the weird thing about a devastating loss, is that life still goes on. You will always have people in life that will care about you, no matter what. For me, the two people are my mom and Amelia. And for once, I really appreciated my mom’s emerald green eyes and curly chocolate brown hair. That day when Amelia wore the clown costume, I didn’t get mad.