Incrypted Love *Chapter 1*

I hated this place more than anything I've ever hated in my life. The pale blue walls and green carpets, and wooden dusty chairs that have begun to cave in, in the seat. I hated the fish tanks that would "calm the patients". I hated the long noised and hairy faced secretary, and her hideous round glasses. But most of all, I hated my therapist.

Just like all the rest in the other twelve states I've lived in, he poked and prodded me with questions that meant nothing. He scribbled down the answers with his ball point pen, and kept his beady black eyes on my face.

"Emerald, how are your dreams?" I wrinkled my nose at the sound of my full name, and the sound of his annoying voice. He spoke in a low calm voice, as if I was a tiger about to spring. Sometimes I wish I was, just so I could tear him to pieces with my teeth. Yes if your wondering, I'm here for my anger issues. Not only this, but my recent dreams that my parents think I should talk about.

"My dreams are the same." I answered, pulling my feet up in the love seat with me, and laying my head on the arm of the chair.

Mr. Jenks dropped his notepad on the desk, and his face reddened.

"We are not going to get anywhere if you don't tell me what your dreams are even about. You've been coming here for three months and I still don't even know your problem." He said quietly, fuming about the lack of interest on my face.

"Do you really think I want to be here?" I asked, staring up at him.

"Do you think that I do?" He said, raising his voice just a bit. He made a good point. He took deep breaths, and calmed himself and soon enough he was seated once again scribbling notes on his little yellow pad.

I looked up at the blue clock on the wall. 30 more minutes. I could do this.

"I always have a dream about having sex with this guy. His eyes are green, and his hair is black, and I'm completely and utterly in love with him. Even though he isn't even real. I'm infatuated with an imaginary friend, hilarious right? So two minutes into this intimacy this...thing breaks down the door. Its just a person, but for some reason I'm scared of it. Terrified actually, and then right before that thing brings down an axe to my face, this guy that I'm in love with jumps in front and is killed. I wake up screaming and crying every time, and for a couple hours after I wake up, it feels as if there is warm blood on my skin."

Mr. Jenks mouth has practically dropped to the floor, and I don't know if its because I've actually spoken of the dream, or if the dream is actually as bad as I think it is.

"Alright," He starts, and I can tell he isn't finished because his mouth is still parted. "This is good progress, but it seems as if our time is up. I'll see you next Tuesday, Emerald." He says, and with that he closes his pad, and walks to the door. I get up and follow him, and he leads me out to where my mother is seated in the waiting room reading a volume of Vogue.

She looks up at Mr. Jenks shocked face, and then over at me, then back to Jenks.

"Mrs. Jules I would like to speak to you about your daughters...state of mind. You may wait out here Emerald."

"That's fine with me." I replied, picking up a magazine from the coffee table and taking a seat on the bench. I watched them through the window, my mother started shouting her face was red and her brown hair had started to friz. Great job Jenks, you just pissed her off.

"My daughter does not need to be admitted into anything except a different psychiatrist!" She spat, as she walked out of the room. "Lets go Emily." She fumed, racing for the door. She opened it and held it for me.

The car ride home was dreadful. No music, no words, just my moms frustrated breathing and quick puffs of her asthma inhaler. This was going to be a very long day. Especially after she told dad. But, at least I wouldn't have to go back to Jenks. He was just like all the rest, wanting to put me in a crazy house just because I was having weird dreams and suicidal thoughts. What a loser.

But, there would still be more. My parents would never give up the chase to find someone who could help me.

Well, howdy there!

This is good progress, but it seems as if our time is up.

All righty, I find this a little forced. If it's really been so long before she's opened up like this, then I would think he would be willing to take a little time. Therapists generally will try and work as much with you as possible, even if it means going over time. If some revelation comes out five minutes before it's time to go, they'll keep you over time to try and work on it. It means that they interfere with other appointments sometimes, but they do their best to help. Now, granted, this could just be a really crappy therapist, but if so, why is he even still bothering to try to get her dreams out? I would think that by now he would have either given up, or having her finally reveal things would have been a big deal and he would have pounced on it. Her dream wasn't all that bad. Weird, sure, but it's a dream. Dreams are weird. I have dreams about ax murderers all the time. Doesn't mean I'm crazy.

He was just like all the rest, wanting to put me in a crazy house just because I was having weird dreams and suicidal thoughts.

Mmmm, it takes a lot to have to be admitted. Medication and therapy are usually the first two options and there is a lot of juggling between different things to find out what works before they really consider admittance. Is Emily on any meds? They weren't mentioned. And since she's just finally revealed the source of her troubles, therapy really can only just start now, to deal with the problems. It isn't a case of "yup, you are messed up. crazy house for you." They'll work with her, do counselling, try meds, try other treatments, maybe day-trips for treatment at an institution, but definitely not admittance right away. The revelation isn't the end, it's just the beginning.

Again, it could just be that he's a really, really crappy therapist, but that's unrealistic. Therapists have to go through a lot of training to become therapists. Not to mention that Emily says this has happened multiple times before. What are the odds of them running into every single crappy therapist for however long a period?

Yeah, this sort of lost me for these reasons. I can see that we're trying to set up that Emily is a messed-up individual, but therapists (for the most part as far as I can tell) aren't bloodsucking quacks. They really do want to help, even if they can be infuriating. They're not going to send one girl to an institution just because she has weird dreams. We need to see more of a history of her being messed up, more of her strangeness, before we could even consider her being messed-up enough to need to be institutionalized.

I'm on to the next chapter! Feel free to drop me a line if you have any questions!

~GryphonFledgling

emerald got me curious about her and her dreams. my mind was full of questions because of her story. how come she had such dream? does she have any problems before? will the psychiatrist help her? all in all i am hooked up!

Hello there.

I hated the long nosed and hairy faced secretary, and her hideous round glasses.

Did you mean long nosed instead of long noised?

"My dreams are the same comma," I answered, pulling my feet up in the love seat with me, and laying my head on the arm of the chair.

Normally, there should be a comma at the end of dialogue. When you write something like: "Yeah," he said or screamed or yelled... there's a comma. When you say something that the person does, then you need a period. I see that pretty much all of your dialogue has periods instead of comma's. I would recommend you change it, since it'll help with the flow of your story.

He said quietly, fuming about the lack of interest on my face.

This sentence is a little bit weird. I don't think he would be talking quietly if he was mad, or rather fuming. I would just take quietly out so it's less confusing.

He took deep breaths, and calmed himself and soon enough he was seated once again comma, scribbling notes on his little yellow pad.

I get up and follow him, and he leads me out to where my mother is seated in the waiting room comma, reading a volume of Vogue.

"Mrs. Jules I would like to speak to you about your daughter's...state of mind.

my mother started shouting comma, her face was red and her brown hair had started to friz.

No music, no words, just my mom's frustrated breathing and quick puffs of her asthma inhaler.

Plot wise, this was good. I like the mystery of the dream and what it means. I don't think it's lacking anything at the moment, so great job!

Keep writing.

-Other One

Hi Jessica
I'll put your original text in red, corrections in blue. Let's get started!
The pale blue walls and green carpets, and wooden dusty chairs that have begun to cave in, in the seat. Um, excuse me? This sentence is extremely awkward; not really sure what you meant here... I hated the long noised and hairy faced secretary, I hated the long nosed, hairy faced secretary, I wrinkled my nose at the sound of my full name, and the sound of his annoying voice. Repetetive; rephrase this. Try: I wrinkled my nose at the sound of my full name. His voice annoyed me, held a tone of forced calm, as if I was a tiger about to spring. Yes if your wondering, should be Yes, if you're wondering, Mr. Jenks mouth has practically dropped to the floor, should be Mr. Jenks' mouth "Alright," He starts, and I can tell he isn't finished because his mouth is still parted. "This is good progress, but it seems as if our time is up. I'll see you next Tuesday, Emerald." He says, and with that he closes his pad, and walks to the door. should be "Alright," he starts, and I can tell he isn't finished because his mouth is still parted. "This is good progress, but it seems as if our time is up. I'll see you next Tuesday, Emerald," he says, and with that he closes his pad and walks to the door. This was very choppy. Slow down and let Mr. Jenks have more of a reaction, then have them be done. Remember, you said they still had half an hour. She looks up at Mr. Jenks shocked face should be She looks up at Mr. Jenks' shocked face "Mrs. Jules I would like to speak to you about your daughters...state of mind. should be "Mrs. Jules, I would like to speak to you about your daughter's...state of mind. I watched them through the window, my mother started shouting her face was red and her brown hair had started to friz. I watched them through the window. My mother started shouting; her face was red and her brown hair had started to friz. "My daughter does not need to be admitted into anything except a different psychiatrist!" She spat, as she walked out of the room. "Lets go Emily." She fumed, racing for the door. She opened it and held it for me. "My daughter does not need to be admitted into anything except a different psychiatrist!" she spat, as she walked out of the room. "Let's go, Emily." she fumed, racing for the door. She opened it and held it for me. Delete that last sentence altogether. It will flow better, and the reader will still get the idea. He was just like all the rest, wanting to put me in a crazy house just because I was having weird dreams and suicidal thoughts. Um, this is a little unrealistic. It takes more than that... Tell us more about Emily's strangeness. If you really want to go all the way with making her disturbed, think about this: look up schizophrenia, and give her some of the characteristics. How old is Emily? Schizophrenia is often diagnosed in the late teen years, so if she begins showing some early signs, this will really get those therapists going. Anyway, overall I love the story, and I love your last sentence! It's a very good end to the chapter.