Description: Christian is mentally disturbed and Lilian is his therapist. Lilian manages to keep Christian's problems away until a long lost memory comes back to him. Can Lilian help Christian from falling off of the edge? Is she even apart of the solution?
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for the plot; everything else belongs to the WWE, unless otherwise stated.
AN: Look who's got all angsty. Hopefully it won't stay like this for long. Also, this is for the lovely liveitup who gave me the idea while we were tweeting during Raw on Monday night.
Chapter 1 – The Meeting
My hands shook as I opened the door to the room. I looked inside and saw a woman, blonde and slim, sitting at the table. She looked at me as I looked at her, instantly entranced by her amazing blue eyes. She stood up and walked over to me.
Hello. You must be Jason Reso." She said. I felt my stomach jolt at the sound of her voice.
I nodded my head and looked down, feeling somewhat shameful.
"I'm Lilian. Lilian Garcia. I guess you can just call me Lilian. Sit down." She motioned for me to go and sit on the couch. She closed the door and locked it, making me feel uncomfortable. I did as she told me to and went over and sat on the couch. I brought my legs up to my chest and hugged them, burying my face in my arms.
Keep my distance; I must keep my distance... I started to shake...
She cleared her throat. I looked upon the real reason I was here.
I had a shit load of problems building up over me. I built my walls up so high, that I could not climb them. Lilian is my therapist. She has to help me deal with my problems. I've tried to get help before, but no one really worked out for me. It's like I couldn't feel anymore, no one could help me escape from that. But, I decided that I was mentally disturbed at a high level, so, I agreed that I would get help...again...even though, I knew that it wouldn't work. I refuse to tell this woman my problems at all. I refuse to be exposed to anyone...ANYONE...I don't want people to know how sick I am. I would rather die than do that. I keep my distance from other people, because I know that they don't care. No one really wants to help me; they just feel sorry for me. So they pretend. I don't need the bullshit...
"So, Jason..." She began, making me look at her."Tell me about yourself."
I didn't know what to say, where to start. Apparently, she realized this because she noticed that I looked nervous and looked down again.
"Ok, Jason. Is it alright if I ask you a few questions?" she asked. I nod my head, and keep looking down.
"Let's start with some silly basics, Ok?" She asked me, and again, I nod my head and keep looking down. I don't know how I was going to answer her questions, I don't talk much.
"What kind of music do you listen to?" She asked me. I kept looking at the ground. I didn't want to tell her. I don't know why...it was just what kind of music I listen to.
She again noticed that I wasn't answering her, she put down her pad and pen on the table beside her and came over and sat next to me on the couch. I shifted a little due to me being so uncomfortable. Lilian put her hand on my cheek and stroked it gently. She lifted up my chin and made me look at her; she had a smile on her face. A pure, good, true smile.
"Jason..." she began."I know you feel uncomfortable, Jason, but I can help you, I promise...if you let me..." she finished with the most sincere look on her face. She looked at me and I looked back at her. Again, she smiled and all the sudden, I didn't feel so uncomfortable anymore.
Lilian waited a while before she spoke again.
"What kind of music do you listen to?" She asked again, still staring at me.
"R-rock..." I managed to croak out. After I said that, I looked down again.
"Thank you" She said with a smile. She stopped stroking my cheek and went back over to her chair and picked up her pad and pen. I let out a big sigh of relief as she left. I was still sitting in the same position I had been sitting in, with my legs to my chest and my face in my arms. I began to rock back and forth. I'm alone again...I like that feeling for some reason...I let out a quick, silent sob so that she wouldn't notice. I don't want any attention right now. I would actually feel better if she just got up, hit me across the face, and just left. But, that wasn't happening, I guessed.
"So...what do you like to do in your spare time? What do you like to do?" She said, breaking the somehow NOT awkward silence. Again...I wasn't responding, but I had managed to look at her again. I just couldn't bring myself to say anything about my miserable life. I didn't want her to know ANY of it, but there is no way I'm getting out of this now. And again, she realized that I wasn't going to respond. And yet again, she broke the silence.
"Jason..." she said."Jason, come on, you have to tell me, remember. I'm here to help you."
Bullshit...no one cares about me, why should you be any different? You're a therapist, just like any other therapist who has to do their job or else they don't get paid. You're only doing this for money, you know. I don't need your bullshit, leave me alone. Just hit me...hard...and walk out...it'll be easier that way...
"Jason...come on, Jason, I need you to tell me, I need your trust, this is the only way I can help you, if you tell me about yourself..."
Suddenly, I snapped. I looked up at her with anger plastered on my face. I decided it was time for me to say something.
"Why should I tell you anything? Your just like the rest of them, you just do this for money, you don't know me, you don't even care about me! Why should I tell you anything at all about my pathetic life?" I said quietly. I was shocked at how I just...said something. I had never said something that easily and yet here I was. I could tell she was shocked too at my quiet outburst.
"Jason, I do care about you, I do want to help you, but we both know that I can't do it if you don't tell me anything, Jason, I can help you, I promise. I promise you, Jason..." she said calmly.
My God, she has the most beautiful voice; I didn't even notice that up until now. I don't know how I didn't notice it. But somehow, those words seem so soothing and right then and there, I wanted to tell her everything that has happened to me, everything that I did...I opened my mouth to speak...
Keep your distance, Jase, you know she doesn't care about you, don't tell her anything...nothing at all... The little voice in the back of my head had said. I immediately stopped myself from saying anything and shut my mouth and looked down again. After a moment of, this time, awkward silence, I broke the silence.
"I like to draw, write and sometimes even sing..." I said. She looked at me with shock on her face again.
"Thank you, Jason." She told me and began writing on her piece of paper. After she stopped writing, she asked me something that I would have never suspected...
"Jason, are you gay?" She asked me. My face shot up and looked at her, almost with fear, she stared back at me, with a look of curiosity on her beautiful face. I blushed at this. But anyways, I had already told her too much.
"...yes." I said, and looked down. I felt so ashamed. I immediately began to sob. The truth was I didn't know if I was gay or straight. I did tend to swing towards men, there were some special cases, however, where I found women sexually attractive... So maybe that made me bi-sexual.
"Jason, it's OK, don't cry, it's alright, I promise you..." she told me. She pulled me into a hug. I sobbed freely on her shoulder.
"Jason, are you ashamed that you're gay?" she asked me.
"Yes, I am, Lilian..." I said and continued to cry onto her neck. What the hell was I saying? Why couldn't I just come out and say 'No I think I'm bi-sexual!' But no, I have to get close to an attractive woman by saying that I'm gay. I have no self-confidence.
She shushed me and we stayed in that position for what seemed like hours. A feeling of warmth quickly spread over my whole body during this time. Warmth? That's something I have never felt before. I wrapped my arms around her and still continued to cry.
"Jason..why don't you go home? I think we're done for today, alright? Come see me again tomorrow, alright?" Lilian said. I looked at her after I was finished crying and nodded my head. I got up, opened the door and left, shutting the door behind me. I walked down the corridor until I reached the main entrance and walked out, hailing a cab when I neared the edge of the pavement.
I don't know why I told Lilian anything at all, I can be such a dumbass. I stared out my window until we reached my house. I went upstairs to my bedroom and walked into my bathroom. I stood in front of the mirror and looked at myself.
I still couldn't believe that I had told Lilian that I was gay... But what made her ask such a question in the first place. It's not that I look gay... Do I? Maybe I should become more masculine. I did have a tendency to be a bit of a 'Pansy Potter' as my grandmother once put it. Why am I worried about what Lilian thinks, anyway?
I sighed and looked away from my reflection. Was it possible that I had a small crush on Lilian? Even if I did, I don't think she would be interested in me. After all, I have mental issues and she's a therapist.
I looked back at my reflection, at the face that I had come to despise so much. A black cloud creeped into the back of mind, over take what happiness I had and I started to get angry. Angry at myself for not being a man and standing up for myself, angry because I had made Lilian think that I was gay. Angry because I just wanted to be dead.
Someone please take this pain away from me, someone please hurt me...kill me...cut me...someone, anyone, please?
I pulled off my shirt and stared at myself. There were bruises on my shoulders and cuts on my arms. There was also a cut on my stomach, a small one. I didn't want to keep looking at this person, I wanted this person looking back at me to die, but no one will take my life away, I guess I just have to take it away myself. I looked down in the sink and saw something. I saw my razor lying in the sink with a small pool of blood around it...it was mine. I began to cry right then and there. I went into a fit.
"Someone please kill me, please!" I screamed at the top of my lungs and continued to cry. I started to throw things around in the bathroom. I picked up things on the sink and threw them around everywhere. There was glass everywhere by the time I had finished. I sighed in relief. I need to feel pain. I want that so bad right now. I stood still in front of the mirror for a moment. I looked at the razor and the blood in the sink. I closed my eyes and wrapped my hands around my hair and began to pull, screaming at the comforting pain. I opened my eyes and looked at myself, wanting to see me in pain, I was still pulling at my hair, ripping some of it out. I stopped. I began to cry harder. I leaned up against the wall behind me and slid down it, tears running fast down my cheeks. I brought my legs to my chest and wrapped my arms around them again and cried even harder. The sobs never coming to an end.
After a little while, I stopped crying and picked myself up. I put my fingers in the blood in the sink and turned around to the wall. I wrote 'die' on the wall in big, bold letters with my own blood. When I had finished, I looked at it and sighed and smiled. I went over to my bed and turned on some music, not long after I felt my eyes droop and sleep overtook me.
Good, bad or ugly? I'm writing Chapter 2 right now, so that should be up in a day or so :-)