Post by Anthony Cartwright on Mar 26, 2021 23:56:43 GMT -8
"I mean, I was left in a crack house for two days during the summer."
The light had been dimmed at his request, to fight the weekend hangover he had managed to rack up before the appointment. Anthony tapped his hands idly against the mug that was provided, with a faded Christmas print and a mint tea bag he had left in for too long. Intake was an irritating necessity, and laying out the history of it all always caused some embarrassment. His life didn't sound real to his own ears sometimes.
Doctor Said was jotting initial notes, and when he noticed the freshman had paused, he offered a slight smile. It wasn't a happy topic, but he was already noticing that he needed a lot of unsaid permission to continue; or reassurance he was being listened to. "I never actually looked into what either of their names were? Just never occurred to me why anyone would want to."
"Sometimes it's just curiosity, or a starting point. Depends on the person," he chuckled. "How long were you in the foster program, Tony?" The younger man's eyes went to the thick file that had been transferred to his office, frowning a bit.
"Oh you didn't...?" He blinked when the therapist didn't offer to fill the silence. "Nine years. Then Arthur took me in."
"What was that like?"
Anthony leaned back in his chair, looking briefly out the window to watch one of the planes take off. "I thought he was a pedophile." There was an awkward pause, broken by his sudden laughter, "No, no- not like that. I really just didn't know why the hell this single rich dude in his forties suddenly wanted a son that was already damaged goods. My friends legit thought I was going to be sold on the black market and cracked jokes about my future career in porn."
Said also laughed, trying to ease the sudden burden of tension as his client started tucking his arms and cross his legs.
"You're in a safe place. You can talk about whatever you would like."
Anthony's face started to flush, "He was legit. Jesus. I knew some of the kids had that happen to them. In foster care. Not me-!" he blurted defensively.
"Were you scared?"
Anthony opened his mouth, the thought cut short as he mulled the question.
"Um...No... Mad, actually. I'm not super proud of it but I was the biggest shitheel for the first year waiting for him to get annoyed and send me back. I didn't know what he wanted. I thought if I let me guard down something weird would happen. I was in trouble a lot- not because of home, but just my behaviour at the new school. I was just...shitty."
"Sounds like you were just acting out," Said suggested, acknowledging a second glance at the file with a patient nod. "Nothing you wouldn't expect."
"None of my friends wanted to stay in touch. That was normal, though, I think. I don't know- maybe they were jealous or felt weird with the idea of coming to a mansion," his voice wavered a bit, and he cleared his throat.
"Did that hurt your feelings?"
"I mean, sure. I was nine," he snorted, taking a sip of the lukewarm tea. "I started lying about him, making up stuff like he was a double-oh-seven agent or Batman. It wasn't hard to make friends, I mean. I had a bunch of cool shit."
"Were you close with anyone?"
Anthony stared off for a moment, visibly concentrating as he started to frown. "Hah. I couldn't even tell you their names."
"Why do you think that is?"
"I already know- I've covered this before. I, like, just sort of knew it was all conditional. Right? I had friends because I had an Xbox and an indoor pool; that kind of crap. Parents didn't like me because I said inappropriate stuff. Jokes and words I shouldn't have known. They also knew the teachers didn't like me, so..." he shrugged, "Kids are like that. They're friends with you because you watch the same show and you're in the same class."
"What about when you were a teenager?"
Anthony blew out his cheeks in an exaggerated fashion. "Don't remember much of that either. Dad brought home an eighteen year old girlfriend three years later."
"Abigail?"
"Yeah," he said, tensing again. Said made a note that he had been avoiding eye contact the entire time.
The light had been dimmed at his request, to fight the weekend hangover he had managed to rack up before the appointment. Anthony tapped his hands idly against the mug that was provided, with a faded Christmas print and a mint tea bag he had left in for too long. Intake was an irritating necessity, and laying out the history of it all always caused some embarrassment. His life didn't sound real to his own ears sometimes.
Doctor Said was jotting initial notes, and when he noticed the freshman had paused, he offered a slight smile. It wasn't a happy topic, but he was already noticing that he needed a lot of unsaid permission to continue; or reassurance he was being listened to. "I never actually looked into what either of their names were? Just never occurred to me why anyone would want to."
"Sometimes it's just curiosity, or a starting point. Depends on the person," he chuckled. "How long were you in the foster program, Tony?" The younger man's eyes went to the thick file that had been transferred to his office, frowning a bit.
"Oh you didn't...?" He blinked when the therapist didn't offer to fill the silence. "Nine years. Then Arthur took me in."
"What was that like?"
Anthony leaned back in his chair, looking briefly out the window to watch one of the planes take off. "I thought he was a pedophile." There was an awkward pause, broken by his sudden laughter, "No, no- not like that. I really just didn't know why the hell this single rich dude in his forties suddenly wanted a son that was already damaged goods. My friends legit thought I was going to be sold on the black market and cracked jokes about my future career in porn."
Said also laughed, trying to ease the sudden burden of tension as his client started tucking his arms and cross his legs.
"You're in a safe place. You can talk about whatever you would like."
Anthony's face started to flush, "He was legit. Jesus. I knew some of the kids had that happen to them. In foster care. Not me-!" he blurted defensively.
"Were you scared?"
Anthony opened his mouth, the thought cut short as he mulled the question.
"Um...No... Mad, actually. I'm not super proud of it but I was the biggest shitheel for the first year waiting for him to get annoyed and send me back. I didn't know what he wanted. I thought if I let me guard down something weird would happen. I was in trouble a lot- not because of home, but just my behaviour at the new school. I was just...shitty."
"Sounds like you were just acting out," Said suggested, acknowledging a second glance at the file with a patient nod. "Nothing you wouldn't expect."
"None of my friends wanted to stay in touch. That was normal, though, I think. I don't know- maybe they were jealous or felt weird with the idea of coming to a mansion," his voice wavered a bit, and he cleared his throat.
"Did that hurt your feelings?"
"I mean, sure. I was nine," he snorted, taking a sip of the lukewarm tea. "I started lying about him, making up stuff like he was a double-oh-seven agent or Batman. It wasn't hard to make friends, I mean. I had a bunch of cool shit."
"Were you close with anyone?"
Anthony stared off for a moment, visibly concentrating as he started to frown. "Hah. I couldn't even tell you their names."
"Why do you think that is?"
"I already know- I've covered this before. I, like, just sort of knew it was all conditional. Right? I had friends because I had an Xbox and an indoor pool; that kind of crap. Parents didn't like me because I said inappropriate stuff. Jokes and words I shouldn't have known. They also knew the teachers didn't like me, so..." he shrugged, "Kids are like that. They're friends with you because you watch the same show and you're in the same class."
"What about when you were a teenager?"
Anthony blew out his cheeks in an exaggerated fashion. "Don't remember much of that either. Dad brought home an eighteen year old girlfriend three years later."
"Abigail?"
"Yeah," he said, tensing again. Said made a note that he had been avoiding eye contact the entire time.