Young Writers Society

Note: I mention suicide, but pretty much only the word. Just a little warning!

Finnley opened the door, fully expecting to see the police. Instead, he saw a single police officer and a familiar woman. Dr. Lark. Finnley thought he’d left her behind when he left California. He thought that when she sent him a message about his blog and he didn’t respond, she would give up. She did not.

Finnley’s pulse raced at the sight of the therapist, her motherly concern fixed in place. She wasn’t a terrible person, just an unwanted one. He didn’t like her, and he didn’t appreciate that she had decided to track him down. She had tried to help, did not succeed, and Finnley was better off without her. Still, for the sake of the officer with her, he forced a smile to his face. Made his hand hang loose at his side.

“I’m Officer Jensen,” the policeman introduced himself. Finnley watched him, looking for a sign of suspicion, of knowing what really happened with Mia in the forest. The man looked relaxed, but Finnley could not calm down. Somewhere out there, he was sure, there had to be some other magician.

“Hello,” he replied reflexively. “Would you like to come in?” It seemed like the appropriate thing to say, but Finnley did not want the officer to come in. Did not want Dr. Lark to come in with him.

“No, no,” the policeman reassured him. “I just wanted to check in here. I heard you helped to find Mia Hart after she went missing, and I know she’s not in a great shape. You doin’ alright, kid?”

The idea that the officer didn’t want to question Finnley at all startled him, but he only blinked in response. He looked at Officer Jensen, but Dr. Lark was smiling her false sympathy smile in the corner of his view, and Finnley didn’t need her catching on to anything he was feeling. “Yeah… yeah, I’m doing a little better. It was hard to see her like that. A little bit scary, you know?”

It wasn’t a lie, but it was a big understatement. Still, the policeman seemed fine with it, nodded along with it. “Yes, well. No kid should have to deal with that. Anyway, this young lady stopped by the station a little bit ago and I thought I’d drop her off since I was on my way here. It’s good someone’s keeping up with you back from your old town.”

Finnley had no choice now except to look at Dr. Lark. Her smile stretched a bit wider. “It’s so good to see you again, Finnley,” she said, her voice disgustingly saccharine. Finnley stared. He had no instinctive, polite words for her. “I was so worried when you didn’t respond to my message, and when you stopped using your blog. Why was that?”

Finnley could only stare at the woman’s bright blue eyes. Her eyes had always drawn him in back in California. They were blue like ice, and even though she seemed to care, her eyes would always tell him the truth. Only the policeman clearing his throat pulled him back to the situation at hand.

“I’ll just be going, then,” Officer Jensen said. He held out a hand, and Finnley numbly shook it. His arm felt limp in the officer’s strong grip. “I trust you’ll be back on your feet in no time. Nice talking with you, Finnley Bale.” The officer turned and walked back to his car, and suddenly Finnley didn’t want him to go.

As the police car’s door closed, Dr. Lark breezed past Finnley into his home. Jaw clenching, he closed the front door sharply behind him and leaned against it for strength as he turned to face his therapist. She seated herself at the dining room table as if she had always belonged there, perfect white button-down shirt and little suitcase and all.

Why are you here? Finnley longed to ask, but he when he opened his mouth, he couldn’t make his voice work.

“We agreed that you would keep writing your blog posts, Finnley,” Dr. Lark said. She looked up at him from the table, her eyes full of meaningless concern. “Even when you wrote them, you didn’t talk about yourself at all. Doing that doesn’t help, you know.”

“I didn’t want the world to know.” In his annoyance, Finnley found the strength to snap out a reply. Dr. Lark tutted, and his old agitation about her attempts at being motherly returned. He didn’t need a mother — he had one. He didn’t need her as a therapist either. Things were better now.

“Maybe you should’ve gone with a journal instead,” she gently chided him. Her voice was so soft, and it was that softness, that gentleness that made him want to scream. “Or you could talk with me about it. It still bothers you, doesn’t it? Your sister’s suicide?”

Finnley’s fists clenched, fingernails biting into palms, knuckles as white as his face felt. He continued to stand against the door, a tiny bit of power to his position. Dr. Lark was the only one who called it a suicide, flat-out, in that factual voice. Every time, even now, it made his blood boil. His sister deserved more than that.

“Why are you here?” Finnley finally forced out, the words hissing between his clenched teeth. Again, Dr. Lark looked him in the eye, froze him to the spot. Even more than her eyes, her next words turned his heart cold.

“Your mother called me up, asked me to come here. She’s been worried about you.” His mother. Finnley’s mind reeled, his jaw fell slack. His own mother had called Dr. Lark to come to his home. When he was finally starting to feel okay. When he thought he was finally getting over Allie’s death. His mother, who had always left it up to the therapist to talk to him about things that had happened to their family. His mother, who had always acted like it wasn’t as downright awful as it was, who made him feel like he should do the same. His mother told him to be open about the magic, about his friends. But she couldn’t confront him about his own sister’s death. It was her daughter, but she refused to get involved.

Finnley couldn’t think about this. Couldn’t stand to be in this room with this icy woman for a second longer. He yanked on the handle behind him, pulled the door open, and ran out. 

Note: I haven't done research yet to figure out if Finnley would really have a therapist or if she's more like a counselor or whatnot, so it's a bit variable at this point in time. Also, this might be excessive anger for Finnley? I don't know if it's really all necessary or realistic, so if you have thoughts on that, it would be nice.