Charles Muley, A Therapist's journal Page #7
- Year:
- 2023
- 189 Views
I leave and the kid begins to feel the puzzle and move its parts.
INT:
CHARLES' THERAPY LOUNGE. KAMILA'S SESSION.KAMILA:
“Once I start it’s difficult to stop”
CHARLES:
“It won’t help you in the long run.”
KAMILA:
“I can cut myself now, but I’ll need to do it again in a couple of days.”
CHARLES:
“Think about the consequences, You really want to die?”
KAMILA:
“Yes.”
CHARLES:
“I think it’s easy to say that, but not in delivery.”
I stand up and tell her to follow, as we pace out the backside door, into the building stairs,
CHARLES:
“We're going to do a little test,” I say.
KAMILA:
“...”
She walks bashfully and I lead her onto the rooftop.
EXT:
ROOFTOP OF HUMAN RESOURCES CENTER BUILDING.When high pressure and low-pressure areas come close to each other, air from the high-pressure area will move into the low-pressure area, creating wind. During the winter, Oregon is around -12, -11, and 10 celsius for each respective winter month. Zonal flow occurred to be more dominant over meridional flow at the 800-700MB level with speeds reaching 10 m/s and meridional flow at a low 3-4 m/s offshore of Newport. At the time of the secession, January was coming up, thus an early record of winter winds showed a 9.4 mph.
These winds were gushing my client’s hair off the back as she approached the ledge of the building.
CHARLES watches her, saying, “Wanna leap off. I won't stop you.”
Approaching her, I lightly tug her back, as the wind and her feet swoop her off.
KAMILA:
“I don’t want to end up in hospit-ah,” she screams.
Her mother watches below, with her palms in her mouth.
MOTHER:
“You really threw yourself off!” the mother says in disquietude.
Her daughter lands on a light blue cushioned padding encircling the building.
I meet them from another exit.
CHARLES:
Collectedly, I say, “I would never hurt either of you. My job is quite the opposite.”
KAMILA:
“I don’t want to die!” the client pleads in torment.
CHARLES:
I look at the girl, saying, “If you can let go of the need to cut yourself, it will (like any urge in life), pass through you.”
END OF 4RTH SESSION CYCLE. INT: CHARLES' THERAPY LOUNGE
The thirteen-year-old girl, Estella, retold what she read in The Art of Witty Small Talk and of Not Giving a Sh*t. Learned to use anecdotes and the ends of stories and for similarities among new people. At least that’s what she should have told me. She is probably thinking people can be better off like she is. Alone at school. She will have to learn to stay away from the quotidian qualities her parents taught. By this, I mean Stranger danger. This is a credence meant to protect her, taught by her parents. To any normal joe, this makes a person seem small, insecure, and dull. It’s better off to forget this and learn to go up to strangers and make friends.
CHARLES:
"The key is breaking out of this habit of being unnoticed. I don't mean to be popular, I mean breaking silence. Your parents feel it would help you in your depression. What is a depression than a philosophical crisis of realization of assumptions about one's life? How about trying the five ten-second rule. A name I came up with about talking to employees whose job depends on being open. Cashiers, doormen, taxi drivers, salesmen, and so on. You can mostly use it with teachers. Use five seconds to ask something as simple as ' How is your day' and have them respond, as you get more comfortable, add details.”
KAMILA:
"Well, I can comment on people, and they'll talk."
CHARLES:
"Exactly."
EXT:
OUTSIDE HUMAN RESOURCES CENTER BUILDINGThe flecked boy still holding a grudge waiting two leave my building. I speak to the father, "What kind of toys does he like, what makes him smile?
"This Wild Cats cartoon."
"We decided on 180 chips for the show. I'll buy a CD of the season. That way he can watch here and at home. Once he has comfort here, we can start pairing."
INT:
CHARLES' THERAPY LOUNGE. ARMANDO'S SESSION.ARMANDO:
"You know, Mara and I had some time together. You know maybe so will get back in the game, later on, I had to settle some turf for now. There's this weasel and been out asking me money, I doubt owe him anythang, but he's off wandering the hellbound renegade. "
CHARLES:
"Rivalry trouble?" I say not to crack his temper. "Do you feel you are no longer a threat to the women around you? Don't go stalking."
ARMANDO:
"I'll be too busy playing her, here, there, back to back." his face turns as if a clock finally ticked the correct hour in his brain. "I can be a tough nickel in her wallet sometimes."
CHARLES:
"At least you acknowledge it."
INT:
CHARLES PERSONAL QUARTERS.I got a call from my superior. She says she wants to schedule a meeting.
INT:
SUPERIOR'S OFFICECHARLES:
I sit down and ask, “What's this about?“
SUPERIOR:
“We've been looking at your clients. Many are without success. One of the names is Shwarnita Gardner, who was arrested a few days ago. Just before that, we have video evidence of you pushing a client by the name of Estella. Of a leg into a cushion pad. “Her voice gets uncomfortable, “What kind of a stunt are you trying to pull off? She's thirteen for christ’s sake!”
CHARLES:
“I was merely trying to get her to see... to choose to stop pitting herself over death-”
SUPERIOR:
“Another client: Mr. Armando Reyes. Do you know what happened?”
The superiors' lovely dark features grow stern towards me. Too scared and dubious to ask, I breathe and shift about my chair.
SUPERIOR:
“He was involved in a motorcycle collision yesterday. I am afraid we are going to have to let you go. This is unacceptable.”
CUT TO AMRMANDO'S COLLISION. EXT: HIGHWAY
Armando Reyes was driving past 90 miles per hour. He drove in his lane, sliding up empty stops on the road, illegally. Tears ran down his eyes. The blacked-out helmet barely showed anything more than 2 inches of his eyes and nose. Two wheels skid across wet pavement, underneath a trailer carrying hazardous chemicals. As the truck flipped, the tank enlightened. It burned half his chin, cheek, His right foot gushing blue. The blue flame engulfed the man.
INT:
HOSPITAL BEDLying in hospice unable to speak for six months. Nothing but a set of eyes rolling around.
At rehab, it was one dying day after another because of fatigue and weakness he experienced after the injury. When he finally recovered, he was on one foot, and an implant on the other. Rubber, fake ankle, toes, a fake calve. Where once a tibia and fibula, now a plastic mesh.
EXT:
OUTSIDE HUMAN RESOURCES CENTER BUILDING; NIGHTAt midnight, my hoodie blends in with the marijuana dealers around the corner of the human resources center. The building was moldy and rusted from the hall end. Here is where they would meet.
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"Charles Muley, A Therapist's journal" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 19 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/charles_muley,_a_therapist's_journal_25927>.
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