a short story written by Kat Le Blanc (she/her) from Chile
07:00 in the morning on a Saturday, I made myself arrive hours before just in case, I’m nervous, I don’t even know what I’m doing here, I’m just a little tired and I think about it; it’s natural to confuse my tiredness with depression, I don’t even know what that is, it’s being sad for a long time. But shouldn’t I be the one who knows more about me than my uncle? I suppose that in this society if you are a minor your voice is not worth it or maybe I am just a skeptic about this, what will it be like? ? Will I have to talk all the time? Will it be like in the movies? It is also interesting to see people entering and leaving, I would like to know what is their life, what made them arrive here, although it bothers me how They look at me, it is as if they knew it, it is as if I said “look there is the boy that his father committed suicide 2 months ago”, I feel that since it happened it is the only look they have given me.
I was confused in my thoughts when he appeared, brown eyes, he seemed too happy to come here, how would anyone be happy to spend their saturday here, he greets the receptionist as if they were lifelong friends. Suddenly he sat close to me -Hello- he said, -Hello- I said hello, my name is Javier- -I Tim- I answered -You don’t want to talk- I wonder -It’s not okay, really- I said -I can ask you a question “I said,” of course, “he answered,” you look so normal to be here. “I saw his face change the second,” What do you mean? -he said -Nothing only that, you know, you don’t seem to be …- I stopped there -please don’t say crazy- keep quiet -look I want to assume you’re new to all this and that’s why your ignorance but if you want us to be Friends never say that word again, nobody is crazy here-he told me, I didn’t know what to say, how would I know what I was going to say? And what did he mean by new in all this? At least he did not look at me with sorrow saying “I’m sorry about your dad”, -I regret- I said -alright, everyone is wrong, let me guess the second time you come. He said -First actually-I said -Seriously that’s weird where your parents are -he asked, -My uncle couldn’t come, he’s working but I’m talking to him or her on the phone- -Don’t you know if your psychologist is a man or a woman? – he said smiling, he had some reason 2, who did not know? Why didn’t my uncle tell me if I talk to him or her? -You do that a lot- I wonder -what- I said curious -to stay stuck as if you were so immersed in your thoughts and the rest was not so important- again I did not know what to say is as if I understood everything -and you do That very often? -I said -what-I-ask -read people in a strange way and say it with a kind of security that scares-he answered laughed -I suppose that when you are alone for a long time you learn to observe and after a while it is easy understand people but let’s not talk about it- okay I said- what do you want to talk about? ask -you’re nervous- he says -something- I answered -don’t worry he will fit in with you you just have to talk- he told me -about what? – -ask -the first sessions will ask you about yourself, do you know why you come? -He asked me of course about my father, I have not been the same since then I thought but I just said -it’s my uncle’s idea- -I understand- he answered me when it is time for them to call you, I look at my cell phone- half an hour- -Let’s go out for a while- I say, I promise you are not late – I agreed and we left it was a large orange building with many floors- where are we going- I asked -you’ll see- we got downstairs there was an ice cream stand he asks for two and we sat on a bench looking at our shoes. what do you want to be when you grow up- I ask -I don’t know honestly I never thought I would go that far- he says -what do you mean- I ask -I always thought that I would no longer live to be 14 and look at me here I am still- I draw a small smile on his face but at the at the same time he looked sad -my father committed suicide- I said I was surprised to realize what he had said -I’m sorry but you know you couldn’t have done anything- he said -I suppose- and so we stared at each other’s shoes.
a blanket of silence somehow comfortable until time passed and we went up. -Tim Vasquez -said the receptionist -if-I got up- it’s your turn- said the receptionist -good- said Javier and that was the only time I saw him, maybe they changed their hours or just stopped going, I thought many times about asking him to the receptionist but I never had enough strength, I can’t believe I didn’t ask her for the phone number or something, I’ll never forget how she helped me when I didn’t even know I needed help.