It was the fourth time I came with her, but I still felt a bit anxious. This time I was told to wait outside of the office, so that feeling was further exacerbated.

To try and take my mind off of it, since this time I was told to wait outside, I picked up a book from the many of the filled bookshelves. I have the impression it was the kind of book that would me good to read, but I wasn’t able to pay it any attention, so I only have a very, very, shallow idea of what it was about.

After a long hour had passed, the door for the psychiatrist office opened, and Abby stepped out. She looked a bit down, but not as much as usual.

“Today we just chatted about how I’ve been doing lately,” she told me, answering my questioning look. “Thanks again for coming with me.”

I got up from my seat and placed the book back to its place while she picked our coats and bags. She asked me then what was it that I read during my wait. She chuckled when I told her I had no idea despite having read about thirty pages.

The air was a bit chilly, so I adjusted my coat collar and checked on Abby’s.

“Humph, Violet, I’m fine,” she grumbled as I did. “Seriously, you’re such a mother.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Wanna go for donuts?”

“What about dinner?” she asked with gluttonous eyes.

“We can save them for dessert.”

She nodded and took my hand, pulling me along as she made us walk to her favourite pastry shop.

She seemed happy. Her steps were filled with pep at least.

I was reassured by that and took to enjoying our walk.

The sun was still out, if only for just a bit longer as we got to her appointment after a day of classes and got out relatively late. It warmed me up a fair bit, along with her walking so close to me, and draped the surrounding buildings and glasses with a golden-orange hue. Most of the houses were painted white, so those new colours offered a refreshing new look to our surroundings with that warm colour.

A reflexion of us caught my eye. I couldn’t remember ever seeing, or noticing, us together from an outside perspective. It was both amusing and somewhat endearing. She looked so short standing by me, even if she was the one standing closer to the reflexion.

I mean, she IS tiny.

“Oof,” I let out.

“You ok?” she asked.

“Y-yeah. I just felt a jab,” I told her as I rubbed my stomach.

“Cramps?”

I didn’t think so. I never had any of that before.

I dismissed it as being one of those random pains people sometimes get completely at random, but she told me to keep her updated.

I hoped I was right, but who knew? I was in the middle of a growth spur, so maybe I’d start having that kind of issues? I’d ask Abby about it, but since we were in public I only did a mental note for a more opportune time.

With my luck, I’ll be wriggling in bed in pain.

“Erm, when we get home, do you want to read my sleep diary?”

I looked at her a bit confused about what to answer.

“You see, he suggested me letting you read it every once in a while. He said it might help me if I have someone I trust go through it and give me feedback if I’m improving overall or not.”

“So that, if you’re in a negative mindset, you don’t fixate on the bad when there has been some improvement?”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Hmm… Sure. I’ll read whenever you feel like it.”

I’d lie if I said I wasn’t a bit curious about what she dreamt about, but mostly, I felt uneasy. But I’ve been through worse, so I wasn’t fully worried.

One week later and I was back in that office. This time I was invited into the room where Abby had her sessions.

The room was… different from what I had imagined. No skulls on shelves, rolls of psychology books, or leather lounge chair. It was your average looking living room. The furniture was nicer than average, but otherwise, it wasn’t all that different than what you’d find in my house or Abby’s.

As for the good doctor, well, she also wasn’t what your stereotypical psychiatrist might look like. Her hair was dyed a deep red and worn loose, her make-up was flawless and in good taste, her smile, very inviting. I certainly could learn a thing or two from her about the latter for my own work, but the thought of that was a bother, so I gave up on that faster than a blink of an eye. It wasn’t like there were any costumers coming and going to the Le Perot, and the ones that did rarely deserved that level of effort with their self-importance.

One thing I always found odd was the fact she dressed very casually. Today it was jeans and a t-shirt of the same colour of her hair with white sneakers. Maybe the idea was to make her appointments feel more like a casual conversation? That could help me open up if it was me going to therapy, so maybe I was right in my guess.

We shared greetings, she asked me how I had been doing since the last time we talked, and then, to my confusion, asked me how Abby had been fairing with her taking a seat right beside me.

“Erm, better?” I answered in my bewilderment.

“Better, you say? That’s good.” Was she asking me that out of the blue to get an honest answer? “Do you agree with her assessment, Abby?”

Abby shifted in her seat, looking momentarily to her knees before answering a “yes”.

“Has she read your sleep diary?”

“Once, last week. I was going to ask her to read it again today.”

The doctor nodded, pulled her legs up and sat sideways. What are your thoughts, she asked me, this time not getting me unprepared.

“Erm… I think she has been getting better,” I stammered, looking at Abby while she completely avoided eye contact.

“…Please, talk freely. I invited you in today so we could all see if there has been any progress in this past month.”

Right, if I wanted to truly be of help to Abby, I had to cast away my shyness and fear of hurting her with my words.

“She really has gotten better, even if only a bit. She sleeps best with me, but… in those nights, she doesn’t remember what she dreamt about most of the time, but when she does, they are nice dreams. Erm, no, there was a night she had a bit of a bad dream, but it was very mild… When she sleeps alone… I think she’s doing better… her nightmares seem to have calmed down slightly at least… I erm… yeah… she has done some progress…”

She smiled and nodded, reminding me of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland, and making me question how much of an actual help she actually was.

That was the last of me they heard until it was time for us two to leave.

Today’s talk was very focused on Abby’s dreams and sleeping habits, so she was feeling downer than usual.

“Thanks for coming,” she told me softly, putting her head against my shoulder.

As was usual I told her it was nothing.

Seeing her so droopy was always a sad thing. It sometimes made me question if pushing her into going to therapy had been the right call, but it was too soon to say whether it was or not.

I’d have to be patient and supportive. And so…

“Wanna stop by somewhere before we go home?”

“…Donuts, maybe…”

“Fufu, jelly filled ones?”

“Mmh-hmm,” she hummed, looking up at me.

“Ok, let’s go eat some.”

“What about dinner?”

“What about it?”

She showed me a yellow smile and hugged my arm gently.

Yeah, I’d have to keep it like this for as long as needed.

“Oof,” I let out.

“Cramps?”

“Yeah… more like stabs, to be honest.”

It was no exaggeration saying it felt like I was churning hot knifes in my belly, and that was with painkillers.

“I’ll give you a massage when we get home.”

“That helps?”

“Supposedly.”

I hoped it did. Never had I felt such physical pain, so I’d take any source of reprieve I could get.

As sharp as the pain was, it wasn’t enough for me to abandon my thoughts of worry over the girl meekly holding on to me.

One day… one day this will all be worth it.

Until then, we had to endure.