The Tens, Vanessa Jones [i like reading books .TXT] 📗

quickly becoming so. The prickly tang, combined with the considerateness of it made just for her, gave her great consolation. She reminded herself to get some teabags so she could replicate the feeling at home.

'Great to see you again Sophie. It's so impressive how you keep showing a commitment to turning up to our sessions. It really does bode well for your success.'

'Yeah.’ Sophie wanted to believe her, to trust her completely. And she almost did. But it was hard to shake the tendrils of disbelief off.

'You don't have to answer me now but I would really like you to think about coming more frequently. Four times a week is not uncommon in times of heightened stress.' Carla's hands jiggled beside her.

'Oh. That's certainly something I would have to think about.' Sophie’s avoided Carla’s eyes by letting them dart around the room, over her streamlined bookshelf, her almost empty desk, the asinine motivational quote on the wall.

‘Let's proceed, shall we?'

Sophie recapped what happened in her car and what she had told Carla about the birds at a previous session. She was careful to tell them exactly the same way she had previously and Carla was careful to keep her reaction in check.

‘None of this seems particularly out of the ordinary in times of stress,’ Carla reassured her. But Sophie couldn’t help feeling like Carla was impatient about something or wanted to probe her deeper.

They tried hypnotherapy again with some more success. ‘I want you to travel back in your mind's eye Sophie, way back. Back to a time which you think you may not even remember. But you do. Our memories can always be accessed. And you are allowing yourself to access as many memories as you want now, knowing you are safe and they are merely memories.'

Carla paused and Sophie heard her sip some water. At least she was still aware of her surroundings, despite the weight in her legs. It was the most relaxed that Sophie had felt in her body for months.

Carla’s pleasant voice dripped all around her. ‘Take yourself back to a time when you were very little. Back when your parents will still alive. And tell me, what do you remember? What do you see?'

Sophie shifted in her seat. All of a sudden it was really uncomfortable to be in her body, in that chair that she normally found so comfortable.

'Sophie? What memories are coming up for you?'

Sophie tried to squeeze her mind into a semblance of a memory but nothing seemed to come.

'It's okay, take your time. Breathe,’ Carla reassured her.

Pushing aside her own impatience and fear, Sophie could feel a memory arising. She found herself hoping that it would be a vision of her parents.

'Tell me what do you see Sophie?'

'I see... I see...' Sophie humped forward dejectedly. She shot her eyes open in protest. 'This isn't working.'

Carla looked mad. 'It sounds like it did. What did you see Sophie? Was it something upsetting?'

'No, it was just the fucking rock from my nightmares. Honestly, I'm sick of it and it's clearly taking up too much space in my mind and clouding anything important that I store in there.’

'Do you think the rock is in some way connected to your parents’ death?' Carla prodded so gently that Sophie almost felt sorry for her, having to baby Sophie in that way. Was she really that petulant or fragile?

'I have considered that in the past but the accident report makes no mention of any rock. The car just flipped, seemingly on its own accord. The report suggested that my dad was driving way too fast on a country road. I’m unsure where exactly. I’ve never been back to the spot,' Sophie shrugged nonchalantly.

'Hmm. Perhaps the rock represents something to you? A symbol?'

Sophie shrugged again. She'd been through this pop-psychology nonsense with herself before, reading all the dream interpretation books she could find. For a few months, she believed the rock represented her unexpressed grief and she tried to force herself to cry by watching movies where people’s loved ones died. Or newspaper articles that bore great tragedy. And although sad, the nightmares did not change course.

'Look, don't force it. With a few more sessions of hypnotherapy, we are bound to figure it out between us.'

Sophie felt somewhat assured. Even if Carla was pretending for both their sake's that Sophie, as a problem, could be fixed, she didn't mind. It was endearing that someone cared enough to try and to listen to her and acknowledge her dreams. Alex, although concerned, always seemed so dismissive when she tried to research her way to the bottom of them. Sometimes, she wondered if perhaps Alex found her more appealing because she had the nightmares. Less of a Ghost Girl and more of a three-dimensional story.

Slam!

A thin man in exaggerated makeup crashed himself up against the window, peering in. His eyes were forced wide open and his lids were painted like peacocks. The sides of his fists were creamy as they pressed against the window and his mouth hung open, his jaw pushed forward. Carla jumped and her blouse followed a split second later. Sophie silently and strangely wished it was a bird against the window so Carla could attest to the strange avian phenomena.

Slam!

He raised and slammed his fists again on the window, despite already having their attention. The few plants behind him rippled with his action. The window faced onto a neglected, unused courtyard that was home to nothing more than some red bricks and some wilting palms. Sophie was unsure how it was even accessed as she only ever came in from the door facing the street and there seemed to be no door leading out to it from Carla’s office. Running her eyes around the windowsill, Sophie could see that the window was painted shut, hence the lack of fresh air in the room.

Carla turned back to face Sophie, a hand pressed