●weakling● final pt.

                                    

                                          
"Do you ever wonder as to why or how you never received the full repercussions for what you did?"
Her nails were bitten down to stubs, her teeth chattering and her jaw locked in place when it was still. Everything around her felt like being smothered by a goddamn pile of cement-filled pillows, the air felt so fucking tight and restrictive around her. It wasn't meant to be this way.
Diane had been out of work for about a year. Nothing could ever recover her career after that fiasco she called a fling with another one of her patients. She knew exactly who ratted her out, too. As much as Diane cared for her patients as a therapist and her work as a clinical researcher, she should have never risked it all for a quick fuck.
Now, here she sat, in front of a therapist, venting all of her problems under an alias she'd given herself. She was no longer Diane to the world. She was Serena, a former nanny who'd slept with the husband of a client. Same story, different profession.
"Yeah, I do. It's truly a wonder," she sighed, twiddling her thumbs, her eyes cast down to the floor. "If I hadn't done what I did, I would probably still be a nanny. But I realize that, at the time, I was searching for something that I couldn't achieve. For some reason, I thought doing what I did would bring me some kind of happiness."
The man across from Diane tapped his chin with his pen. "What were you searching for? Why do you think you were searching for it?"
Again, Diane just stared at the carpeted floor. She didn't really have much of an answer to that.
"Serena," Mr. Gallagher sighed, setting his pen down and leaning forward, hands clasped together, "If you had the courage to find it within yourself to understand what it was that you're looking for, do you think you'd find it feasibly?"
Diane looked up, welled tears in her ducts wiped away on her sweater sleeve as she sat and pondered on the question. She didn't even know why she was crying. She didn't deserve to feel this way, with the lives she'd ruined, with her unprofessionalism. Diane did this to herself, leaving a trail of hurt in her wake.
"I don't have courage, anymore, Mr. Gallagher," she softly said, sniffling. "Nothing really feels real, like it all doesn't matter."
The therapist only sat back in his chair and clicked his tongue a few times before scribbling away at his notes and looking back at Diane. "Well, our time is up for today. Make sure to come back next week, we'll have some exercises to try out. Have a good rest of your day, Ms. Serena."
She nodded curtly, picking up her purse to head out. She was suddenly stopped by a hand clutched around her arm. Diane leered for a little, peering into her therapist's eyes for an uncomfortable moment or two. He said, "Take care of yourself, Serena. You'll need it."
With another curt nod of acknowledgment, she turned on her heel quickly and exited the office.
She kept her head down as she walked down the street. The less attention was drawn to her, the less stress it caused her. It was quite daunting, the change in demeanor over the last year. What felt like yesterday, she was able to strut the streets with her head held high and her smile blindingly smug. Her clothes were expensive and luxurious; such durable quality that would last her for a while and was perfect for any season.
Now, Diane could barely make eye contact with someone without wanting to flee and hide in shame of what she did. She walked with her gaze glued to the ground, her face gaunt and somber. The only things she wore most days were baggy sweatpants and oversized sweaters, or the occasional decent t-shirt. If she wasn't wearing that, she was wearing her uniform at the local cafe she currently worked at.
The downgrade from her previous life made her skin shrivel up in despair and anger.
All she could think about these days was how worthless she felt; no longer a decent contributor to society, she could not muster interacting with the public properly and confidently. Her family didn't communicate with her, except her parents. Even then, her parents only call her ever so often.