Therapy

a story-ish

Shafiq was slouched into the arm chair, present bodily, but mentally absent. His eyes vacant, his expression blank. Everything about him seemed so soulless, as though his spirit had been whisked from his body.

you mentioned your dad did nothing but find fault… how do you feel about that currently…?

Shafiq was in waking-sleep mode.

Would you say you’re a sleepwalker? sleep-talker maybe?

There was neither twitch, flinch or sound. no snore. He was awake yet asleep, present, yet absent. It seemed more to be a monologue than a dialogue. The tired psychologist, raised herself on the arms of her office chair.

I guess we’re done for the day. you did good. She said, drumming her little fingers on her desk. Shafiq made an abrupt forward bodily jolt. The therapist’s wrist was suddenly in his firm grip. She smiled wryly, obscuring her shock…

father, i will not forgive you… Shafiq growled under his breath. His therapist trembled yet stayed composed in the midst of it all…

To be continued