Morrigan plopped down on the couch, rubbing her temples to sooth her aching head. She sighed heavily as she opened her laptop and opened her online blogs. What she saw did not help the pressure in her head as she noted many missing posts and many angry responses from xenophobic people. Morrigan put a lot of work into spreading the word of the mistreatment of magic-less folk as well as the Eskarii who had travelled lightyears to make a home on their world. The fact that the Federation’s online security would go through the sites she posted on and removed her posts, as well as other Terrans who believed in her ideology, made her blood boil. Catching the level of anger she was feeling, she began to wonder about the truths behind everything her parents said regarding her anger issues. Being surrounded day after day whether it was at school or around the city, there were always those who either looked down upon you for not having the ability to perform magic or self-serving folk whose narcissistic tendencies create minor discord for those around them, or to those who lived in the government subsidized districts, major discord. The problem was both of those categories fell under the personality archetype of those who could shape the world around themselves. The mages; Terrans who got left behind during the last major war between human factions on Earth. Morrigan had learned in her various history classes that slightly over a century ago, the major players of the planets political structure went to war over their greed of Earth’s natural resources. Even though humanity had begun colonizing other planets and forming interstellar trade routes for material goods and resources. It seemed that people in power could not help themselves.
That was one thing in a long list of issues Morrigan had when it came to humans. Between the greed, arrogance and self-centered traits that is both bred and taught into each generation time and time again, “why has no one ever learned?” She asked herself. She shook her head as she began to re-enter everything she had posted on the various sites she was on. Everything from advocating the rights of magic-less Terrans who were beat into the ground by politics and left to fend for themselves in the lower gov-subs, to the demand of rights and respect of the Eskarii people who were treated worse than magic-less, even if only by a little bit.
She found it ironic that the mages treated the Eskarii so poorly; sure, they were aliens from another planet, but the Eskarii were also mages in their own respect. Perhaps it was humanity’s incessant need to be superior.
Morrigan leaned back and ran her fingers through her chestnut-colored hair, gingerly twirling a streak of light blue-dyed bang between her fingers. Even now she sees her species simply repeating itself over and over. Instead of rich and poor, there was now the powerful over the powerless to top it off. Honestly that bothered her even more. In the past, power was fueled by arrogance and now arrogance has the might behind it to back it up. She found that fact more terrifying. Arrogance and ignorance backed with raw power is a recipe for disaster, as her mother once told her. However, she often wondered what it would be like to have mage abilities, and what her abilities would manifest as if she had them. No mage was exactly alike after all. Some could control elements, which typically led to military careers, others could control gravity and mass or being able to manipulate the composition of matter, often leading to extremely high paying jobs in industrial work, while other powers became more scattered and numerous with far less usefulness, such as being able to create light or cause organic things to grow faster.
She shook her head trying to toss out the subtle tendrils of jealousy creeping into her head as she closed her laptop and set it aside. “Oh, to be a mage,” she let out at a whisper. Finished with her work, Morrigan leaned her head back closing her eyes.
A woman in her early 40s with a slender frame and long auburn hair entered the living room from an adjoining office. Looking down to admire her sleeping daughter, Helen Clarke smirked to herself.
“Feet off the table young lady!” Morrigan woke up to her mother’s kind but stern voice and a slap on the calf as her mother sat next to her on the couch. Rubbing the sleepiness from her eyes and taking in the contemporary style of their living room, she stretched and noticed her mother’s lap, which she abruptly occupied with her head. Her mother ran her nails against her scalp with a soft chuckle.
Morrigan groaned happily as she closed her eyes again. “Keep doing that forever, and when you die, I will just have your hand put on a stick.”
Her mother scoffed, “as morbid as that is, I suppose there are worse things that could have come out of your mouth.” The woman watched her daughter shrug as she nestled into her lap. “How was school today?” Helen asked.
Morrigan snorted, “well I didn’t pick a fight so that’s always good right? Though it was kind of a close call when I saw a bunch of mages picking on Brogan. Luckily, Taylor intervened on my behalf…”
Her mother smiled, “how is the dear boy? You never bring him around anymore.” Morrigan was happy that her parents approved of her boyfriend. Granted she never pictured herself dating someone like Taylor in her entire life; a six-foot two wall of muscle and ginger hair, someone who looked like a typical jock but was nerdy and a gentle giant, to Morrigan anyway. Also, there was something about his honesty and level headedness that really spoke to Morrigan. She was the time bomb always seeming to be ready to go off, and he was the bomb squad’s tools used to keep the bomb from going off.
“Well ever since he started helping his folks in their shop full time, I've barely seen him outside of school unless I go over there,” she stated.
Her mother laughed softly to herself, “honestly, I am surprised you’re not there more often. Frankly, any time you brought him over it was like pulling teeth getting you to take your attention off him. Especially since I’m certain his parents would turn you into a grease monkey in a heartbeat.” Morrigan groaned, slightly embarrassed by her blatant enthrallment.
“It's not like I go over there and sit around watching him work, I get my hands dirty like you and dad would expect me to… though you couldn’t blame me if I did, it’s not my fault my boyfriend is pretty to look at.”
Helen chuckled as she gently ran her nails through her daughter’s hair, “this is true. It is also hard to tell who is prouder of you for being so proactive with Taylor’s parents though it would be nice to get our own daughter’s help around the house sometime.” She looked down to see her daughter glaring at her playfully with sharp pouting sound.
“It's not like I can help you or dad with your jobs. You work here out of your office as an intel analyst for the Federal Galactic Navy. Dad is patrol for the Denver Special Tactics Unit.” Morrigan paused with a gentle sniff. “Besides, you both were far more receptive of Taylor than Mr. and Mrs. Briggs were of me… seems my reputation reached their ears before he and I started seeing each other.”
Helen knew her daughter’s growing reputation of being an outspoken scrappy degenerate weighed heavily on her, “Mori, I know you’re doing your best to work on your anger, both your father and I know you don’t want it to define you and as far as I can tell Taylor sees through your rough and tumble personality to see the real you.” Morrigan simply nodded subtly. “I’m sure Taylor’s parents will see past it and the nasty rumors that circulate,” Helen added. Morrigan nodded, knowing what her mother said was true. Granted the rumors were true, Morrigan was a troublemaker and often stirred up trouble when it came to standing up for any who get harassed by mages or the respected powers they control. She tightened her eyes to focus her mind on Taylor. While getting lost in fantasy about her boyfriend, she was startled by her mother's nails playfully tugging on her ear, “speaking of which, you're going to be late to your appointment missy.” Morrigan looked above the fireplace at the clock next to the TV.
She groaned deeply and buried her face into her mother's knee. “I don’t want to go. He is so annoying and completely useless. Honestly, you, dad and Taylor have been so much more help than that moron!” she complained.
Helen poked her nails into her daughter’s side to tickle her into motivation. “Yes well, we’re not your court appointed therapists, besides it's your second to last session. After this you won’t have to worry about it anymore if you behave yourself,” Her mother said, giving a gentle smile when Morrigan turned to peek at her through giggling.
“Fine. Fine”. Morrigan forced herself to stand and reach for her light jacket. “I’ll go and get it over with. I mean you’re not wrong, just this session and next session, I will officially be done with this.” Her mother nodded in agreement while repositioning herself on the couch, taking advantage of the alone time she will have while on her break.
As Morrigan headed towards the door, her mother’s exclamation caught her attention, “Oh! I almost forgot to tell you. Hurry home after your appointment, your father apparently had a huge hit this morning…” Morrigan frowned, she knew her father’s job well enough that he may have just ruined the lives of many planetary visitors. “They are letting him off early once he finishes all the paperwork…” Helen noticed the look of being torn on her daughter’s face. She put on a soft kind smile and said, “the better news is your dad took time off tomorrow for your birthday, he says he has a big surprise for you.”
She gave a smirk to her mother knowing she told her everything in sequence in order to keep her from getting too upset. Both her parents knew how much she loathed how the Eskarii and the Saurian were treated. The Eskarii were something similar to what humans considered Elves would look like, tall humanoids with sharp features of their faces and large pointed ears. They often had brightly colored hair and various colored eyes as well. Morrigan was not sure if their vibrant hair color was dyed like humans tend to do or if it was a genetic factor. Aside from those features, they were essentially no different than humans. Earth’s new ‘upper class’ hated them due to the Eskarii being an entire race of mages, as well as far more talented magic users as well. Morrigan did not know the real extent of the Eskarii’s magical abilities, but Earth's were moderately talented however, mediocre in comparison to the Eskarii. It made no sense to her why instead of seeking knowledge from their galactic neighbors, Terran mages prefer to hate them instead. Like she thought before, always got to try and be superior. Morrigan, on the other hand, found the Eskarii people interesting, they were relatively peaceful, only looking to expand their knowledge as well as other races knowledge and create stability in the galaxy. She knew extraordinarily little about their culture nor their home world Gelia aside from whatever videos she could find online. Morrigan often dreamed of what it would be like to see the planet of Gelia. It was said to be a dense jungle planet covered in vibrant plants and trees never to be found on other planets in the galaxy.
The Terrans had an insignificant amount of information on the Saurian. According to what little sources she could find, the Saurian were a war-like race of humanoid lizards from the planet T’iktaq’to. The term humanoid was used rather loosely she thought. They were bipedal creatures of tough scales or hide, sharing similar traits to ancient Earth reptiles. From the sources she had been able to find, they had three different subspecies, but they all valued strength and a good fight more than anything, that was something Morrigan could relate to as well. Granted Morrigan did not go looking for a fight however, if one were to present itself, she would not back down. The downside to the Saurian was that they wanted nothing to do with Terrans nor the Eskarii. If she could gleam anything truthful from any of the information gathered on them is that they prefer to be left alone. That was something else Morrigan could relate to.
She smiled at her mother more heartily to ease her conscious, “thanks for letting me know, I’ll be home as soon as possible. Bye!” With that she headed out the door. She paused and looked back at her house, it was a two-story house with attached garage made of brick and stone, honestly it was higher class than most magic-less could afford but with both her parents’ jobs they were able to live rather comfortably. That was something she respected rather than squandered.
She began down the street towards downtown Denver, passing by much nicer homes belonging to those she despised. She caught a blind opening and closing quickly as she passed a house a block down from her house. “What the fuck are you looking at you cur?!” she exclaimed as she continued walking. Morrigan took a lot of pride in knowing her neighborhood learned she would not tolerate their bigotry. Between harsh language, a few thrown fists and possibly a flying rock or two have hammered that point home for many. “Yes, granted dad had to intervene a few times and persuade charges to be dropped,” she thought to herself with a scowl. As much as she appreciated her father, it was a double edge sword given what he does for a living. At the same time, she also found it pathetic how often people want to bark and play tough until someone bites back.
Her walk to her therapist’s office was a hard one. Every single time she could spy into the lower wards of the gov-subs. It hurt Morrigan’s heart to see such run down and desolate buildings. The streets were unkept and dirty, filled with broken glass, garbage and other refuse. Any person in the streets always looked worse for wear, covered in soiled clothes and rags. Morrigan knew that most of the occupants were Eskarii which made the impact of the sight that much more meaningful to her. Morrigan made it a point whenever she could to bring what food her family could spare down to the lower ward she passed by. She never got to meet anyone from the lower wards whenever she went down there. The occupants always seemed to hide in whatever shelter they had and refuse to interact anyone outside their neighborhood, not that she could blame them. Terran gangs also made a point of harassing the area as well. There had been a few occasions where she had gone to leave food for the neighborhood and be confronted by these groups of bandits. It was moments like that she was thankful that her father had taught her how to fight. It sickened Morrigan to see how the Terrans preyed upon anyone below them, even if they were just as low as they were.
Reminiscing of past altercations that proved her point, made the hour long walk fly by and found herself at the therapist’s office. An old-style bell on the door rang as she opened the door and entered. She was greeted by her favorite person, aside from Taylor that is, a young Eskarii woman by the name of Mo’Emori. Mo’Emori gave her a bright smile that made Morrigan blush slightly which she tried to hide under her long-colored bangs. Mo’Emori was beautiful, slightly taller than Morrigan and had long teal hair that inspired Morrigan to put the light blue streaks in her hair. Morrigan would not admit she had a crush on the alien woman but just looking at her bright yellow eyes, thin lips and adorably pointed ears had her knees wanting to give out.
Morrigan shook her head with a smile in an attempt to banish her thoughts and remember why she was there. “Hello Mo’Emori, is Dr. Yuma ready for me?”
Mo'Emori smiled and said, “let me check for you Mori.” Mo’Emori had a voice like silk that made Morrigan want to melt in front of her whenever she said her name. Morrigan found her own voice to be harsh and slightly boyish which sometimes made her jealous of Mo’Emori, but nothing would stop her from adoring the young Eskarii. As Mo’Emori picked up the phone, Morrigan did everything she could to subtly occupy herself, so she did not just stand in front of the receptionist’s desk and gawk. That led to her looking at everything above her while wearing her bangs as a moustache. “Yes Mr. Yuma, it appears Mori has arrived—” Mo'Emori burst into a short giggling fit when she noticed what Morrigan was doing “—on time sir.” Morrigan blushed deeply in embarrassment. She had no problem with making Mo’Emori laugh with her antics, but she did not like knowing her therapist obviously would figure out she was doing something weird to make his receptionist laugh.
Mo’Emori smiled and gestured towards the hallway to her right, “Dr. Yuma will see you now Mori.” Her eyes were bright with amusement and from what Morrigan could hope, compassion.
“Ye-es, s-sure. Thanks,” Morrigan stammered out before rigidly walking down to her therapist's door and walked in without knocking. She abruptly let the door swing shut as she planted herself in one of the two chairs used for sessions. Mr. Yuma raised an eyebrow at the display of discomfort, “is everything alright Ms. Clarke?”
Morrigan let out a deep breath and regained her composure, “yeah, everything is fine. I’m just dandy.” Her jubilant sarcasm a typical defense mechanism to obvious embarrassment. Morrigan crossed her legs in the chair and sat straighter waiting on the therapist. She took in the office around her. It was not anything new to her but she always liked to know her surroundings. Dr. Yuma’s office was bland and typical, dual tone walls of maroon and beige, a wall length bookcase behind her that held dozens of books as well as other homely knickknacks and degrees he held. Open space to her right aside from the end table next to her chair. He had a couple potted plants throughout the office to make it seem more welcoming however, she found nothing about the office that made her comfortable. Even the oversized chair she sat in was uncomfortable.
She watched her therapist as he reached into a drawer and pulled out a notebook that said who knows what about her and made his way over to the opposing chair where he sat with a foot across his knee and opened the notebook to start making immediate notes. She eyed him suspiciously from across the coffee table between them as he wrote down several things, she guessed he was making note of her foolish antics and embarrassed panic. “Great, something else to analyze about me, I’m a bumbling idiot around Mo’Emori.”
“So, let’s start with how school went today?” he stated. Pausing his notes to watch her reaction.
She shrugged and answered him, “it was fine, didn’t beat any one up or anything.” She swayed her head side to side, trying to subdue the soft tingle of irritation crawling up the back of her neck. Every session it is the same asinine questions and it drove her crazy. If she had her way, she would take his psychology degrees and stuff his throat with it.
He smirked while giving her a calculated once over. “Well, that’s always a good thing. What about your temper? Any emotional outbursts? Fits of rage? Any of the usual?” He prodded. He was aware how much these questions annoyed her. At this point in their sessions, he has heard less reports of her unruliness from her dean and local law enforcement, so it was time to test her self-control over her own emotions. It was not the most intelligent idea to poke and prod at a patient known for their violent tendencies while unrestrained, however it was a risk he was willing to take for this young woman. He respected why she was here, albeit court ordered. What landed her there was merely an act of defense of another and that sort of empathy, or sympathy depending on that patient, is a value that is in short supply these days.
Morrigan scratched her head in thought trying to recall the week. She shook her head, “no not really. Things have been pretty tame all things considered…” she recalled the near incident when it came to the bullies at school harassing her classmate Brogan. Quickly contemplating if honesty would be worth it here. “Well actually there was one thing at school today.” Yuma took quick note and gestured her to continue in a way that highlighted his piqued interest. She took a deep breath and slumped forward already regretting saying anything. She continued, “well three mage kids were picking on a magic-less classmate. Shoving him into a locker, making petty threats, stuff like that.” She bit her lip lightly, hoping this did not ruin her, nor did she want her anger to get out of control while she told this story, ‘emotional maturing’ as Dr. Yuma liked to call it. “I noticed what was going on, became instantly pissed and started towards them…” She watched Dr. Yuma make another note. He rubbed his hand over his mouth while staring her down. It looked like a stare of damnation towards her, and her rising anxiety started to become anger mixed with fear. The sort of near helpless fight or flight reaction that may cause her to lose her freedom. She could not let this little bit of truth ruin her life, she thought to herself as she did her best to push both fear and anger down.
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Yuma studied her, noticing the slight tremble in her hands that were clasped together. Her eyes were closed and her breathing heavier than it was, he speculated that she was trying to control herself. If that truly was the case, his ruse is working remarkably given her amount of self-control. Only months ago, Morrigan Clarke was a girl who would lash out at any notion regarding mages, often prone to violent temperament especially any situation involving magic users themselves. Nevertheless, her reasoning behind her anger towards magic users has been relatively guarded and he has had mild success on figuring it out. Between the police reports and short conversations about her classes involving Earth history and Sociology, she gave him little to go on. What caught his attention was her pause before admitting this school incident. Perhaps she really is taking her sessions seriously?
Yuma returned to his relaxed position and pointed out, “well seeing as I didn’t get any notification from your school or from the police, I would really like to know what happened.”
Morrigan’s anxiety all but dissolved. Her body relaxing, she lifted her head a little higher to look Dr. Yuma in the eyes, “I was with Taylor, and he grabbed onto my arm.” she chucked lightly, “he may be over six feet tall and built like a wall, but I have to admit he has serious faith in me to just grab me like that while he knows I’m pissed off.”
They both smirked at her comment. He was very inclined to agree knowing some of what she has done in the past. “And what happened then?” he asked.
“He pulled me back into his arms and said, ‘I got this one, you can be my back up.',” Morrigan said through a smile. She felt a little foolish being swooned so easily by Taylor but she knew for a fact she could not help it. “He held me for a few moments longer for me to calm down then strode over to the three shitheads, grabbed the two closest to him and shoved them into the third to get their attention. I didn’t get to hear what he said but at one point he pointed to me and the three paled.” She finished with a giggle that suited the sadistic nature that filled that moment. She remembered fondly the predatory glare she gave the boys.
Yuma took stock of the story. He thought he finally figured out what her obsession with the magic users was. He jotted a few notes about her reaction to her own story, “you seem to have built yourself quite the infamous reputation for yourself hm?” he noted openly, watching her closely. She crossed her arms over her chest leaning back in the chair. It was an accusatory statement aimed at her pride that did not sit well with her, at least, that is how she took it.
Morrigan thought about her reputation. It was rather like he said, infamous. Infamy stemmed through violent conflict against those who feel the need to oppress those beneath them. “As if that should be considered infamy,” she shook her head with a chuckle as the thought crossed her mind. “Yeah, I suppose those who feel they’re better than any of us magic-less folk know fairly well now that I won’t tolerate their bullshit. Between the bigotry and the oppression, there is no way I am going to fold as easily as everyone else,” she stated firmly. That much was true. She had no intentions of being walked over like everyone else at school or their parents who work dead end jobs just to scrape by. She knew she should be grateful for what she had, she got lucky that both of her parents had government jobs, that meant they would always have food and a roof over their heads, but that did not change the fact that there are millions of magic-less humans who end up living in slums and government subsidiary housing with little to sustain themselves.
“So, you feel like a victim of our social structure? Is that why you like the feeling of being feared by many magic users?” Dr. Yuma asked. The question took Morrigan aback. He noticed that she seemed genuinely surprised by his questions.
“That would defeat the point if I were a victim!” she nearly shouted. She could not believe he tried to say she was a victim. As if she was helpless! She ground her teeth at the thought. “I am far from a victim; I fight to keep from being helpless. It’s obvious from a sociopolitical perspective that no one will defend the real victims; the magic-less, the Saurian, the Eskarii. They are all the real victims in all this between the gov-subs and concentration camps, the arrests and deportations, the–the…” Morrigan covered her mouth, closing her eyes, trying to force out everything she witnessed the night of her arrest. Something she promised never to let out. The memory left her shaking, forcing herself not to cry in front of her therapist. That night was beyond pain, beyond reason. She was forced to keep it to herself for a multitude of reasons and every time she thought of it, it tore her soul apart. She could not stand looking weak, but to be this defenseless in the presence of someone who held her life on a razors edge. She regretted going to therapy, to have been reminded of that night and put her into such a delicate situation she had no control of…She could not even finish her thought, all she could do is pull her legs up to her chest, bury her face into her knees and do her best to stem the tide of tears that threatened her control.
Dr. Yuma however, found this reaction fascinating. Never had she opened up so much emotionally. He knew there was a memory in there that wanted to break free. Whether she has told anyone of it before was an irrelevant mystery. What he needed was to know, partially out of curiosity, but mainly because he believed this was the core reason behind her temper and hatred of magic users. Her parents said that her temper was quick growing up, but the last three years it became volatile. Whatever happened when she was arrested was not disclosed to him, at least in any detail. Her father had been there when she was arrested but told him he did not have the authorization to disclose the details of the case. The courts have denied him a full copy of the reports. He had to get her to talk, but she distrusted him greatly like any court appointed patient would. He would have to risk all the progress he has made with her if he was to truly help her.
Yuma closed his notebook and set it on the table between them and placed his elbows on his knees leaning forward, “Ms. Clarke I need you to look at me,” he said softly. He did everything he could to remove any sort of command from his voice. With a muffled sniff, she raised her eyes enough to peek over her knees. He could see her eyes were turning red from the effort to keep from shedding tears. Her body trembled involuntarily.
This is the part of his job he hated the most; forcing someone into emotions they should not have to endure. He sighed in a way he hoped expressed concern for how she was feeling, “listen–I know it's something hard to talk about, but I would really like you to finish what it is you were saying.” He placed his hands together and up to his lips in thought. “Honestly, I need you to tell me, I need to understand what’s going through your head right this moment in order to help you. It will be off the record, I promise not to make note of anything you say for the rest of our session and anything you say will stay strictly between the two of us as patient confidentiality,” he explained while locking eyes with her. He did not lie to her and wanted her to know it as well.
Morrigan buried her face again and blew out a heavy sigh filled with desperation. Her mind was in chaos in that moment, fighting to maintain a semblance of control all the while screaming for release. She found it hard to feel anything but desperate. She knew this was the deciding factor for her life and that made it that much harder to maintain any coherence. Whether or not she would spend the rest of her life in federal prison or go free. As much as her parents had helped and leveraged, everything amounted to what this man said to the courts.
She had to move, sitting still trying to contain the energy building up was slowly breaking her down. She stood, with a sniff, wiping a stray tear the managed to escape and started pacing back and forth behind her chair. She paid no attention to Dr. Yuma who watched her with a focus she could not recognize. All she could do was fidget; her breathing became erratic as she fought to put her thoughts into words without having her emotions consume her. She groaned angrily as she wiped her face, as tears became harder to hold back. The logic side of her brain fought tooth and nail with the desperate pleas of her soul, all she wanted to do was scream. Three years of keeping that night to herself ate at her like the worst of poisons and it was too much for her.
He watched her slowly unwind. This was not exactly what he was looking for, a mental breakdown was not the answer to her problems. He reached out a hand to gesture for her to try sitting again, “Morrigan…”
A cord of her control snapped. “They fucking kill them!” she said roughly, all her efforts failing as tears started flowing and choking her as she faced away from him. Dr. Yuma gasped in shock, but she could not let him react. Storming towards behind her chair she turned to him, running her hand through her hair in a desperate attempt to maintain her composure, “they have no concern for them, to us. They do as they fucking please, without consequence!” she said, her voice rising with anguish and anger. She paced in a shorter step, and she continued, she knew she could not fight it anymore, “every fucking day, magic users walk all over the magic-less, starve them, beat them down and take advantage of them any single chance they get. The Saurian are branded monsters and war criminals! They're sentient beings! They have clans, values and even morals! Despite the shit spewing propaganda, the military dumps on the public! I’ve read all that I can about them, I’ve learned everything I could about the other races we share our galaxy with because they’re much more than the damned animals they claim they are!” She could feel her rage slipping from her grasp, she needed to stop, she wished she could stop. Despite how much control she thought she had, there was no amount of control that could stop her from finishing. “And the Eskarii! The Eskarii…” Right then and there the barrier of her control shattered. Everything she kept buried deep within the recesses of her mind came spilling forward in a torrent of mental anguish.
“They fucking killed her!” she screamed as she grabbed the potted plant off the end table that was next to her chair and threw it at the far wall. As it shattered, she let out a primal scream of pain. The rage she felt on that night resonated in her soul and came out as pain. She faced away from her therapist, curling her fists as she trembled trying to speak the rest of what needed to be said. “Right in front of me, in front of my fucking face,” she forced out in a choke as she wiped a face full of tears on her sleeve. Her core was cracking, everything she kept inside, locked up in silence was coming unglued.
She turned to face a blurry Dr. Yuma. She wiped more of the continuous tears from her eyes, “after everything I did to help her, save her, they put a gun to her head and blew her brains out all over the fucking alley. Right in front of me! I begged them to stop… tried to tell them they didn’t understand!” she forced out as her emotional barrier fully collapsed and pure tears of anguish shed. Her knees gave out as she broke down. Falling to her knees behind the end table next to her chair she buried her face into her hands trying to breath long enough to finish. “I couldn’t stop them, as they held me back away from her, I begged, I pleaded—” she took a choked breath, burying her face in her sleeves, her emotions fleeing her as the pain in her soul surfaced as if gasping for air “—I broke free, trying to get to her, as he pulled the trigger I couldn’t…” she sat up on her legs, closing her eyes and gripping the back of her head as the anguish dissipated into cold, emotionless rage that lingered on the tip of her tongue. Long moments passed in silence before her head was supported by her hands behind her neck, Morrigan’s hollow voice broke the silence, “I grabbed a stun baton, gripped it with two hands and swung it right underneath his helmet connecting with his neck. He collapsed instantly. Just as she did… Between the blow I struck and the spasm of his muscles; his neck broke. I didn’t stop though, I couldn’t stop, I swung and swung against his helmet screaming until they pulled me off him and held me down to cuff me. The entire time I could do nothing be scream… ‘you fucking murderous bastards!’ and fight against the restraints that bound me.”
Dr. Yuma watched her shut down completely, curling herself into a ball underneath the end table next to her chair like a wounded animal. He could not help but feel drawn back by the story she just told. Morrigan did not tell the exact details of what transpired but he was able to piece together what happened. He could not claim anything she said was a lie when every word she said was raw emotion from reliving the experience in her mind. The reports said nothing about a confrontation with the police, only that there was a violent confrontation with some alleyway thug which she accidentally yet fatally hit in the head with a brick. He was not sure why they deemed self-defense warranted his expertise, being told by the courts of what happened made little sense, but killing a cop was a much higher crime than murder in self-defense.
His phone rang, the reception number on the caller ID. That is when it dawned on him that the ‘she’ she referred to, was an Eskarii woman. The police must have executed an Eskarii woman in front of her and she retaliated in the defense of the alien woman, despite it being too late. He now understood, maybe not fully but he knew enough now to be able to help, actually help, this girl out of her troubles, legal or otherwise. Perhaps she will continue therapy afterwards? He wondered. First though, he needed to help her out of the hole he made her dig.
The phone continued to ring, and he forced himself to answer it.
“Mr. Yuma is everything okay? I heard shouting and something breaking,” Mo’Emori inquired.
“Yes, everything is alright, thank you for checking in…” he paused as a thought occurred to him. “Actually, would you be kind enough to bring in some tea?” he asked.
There was a slight pause, as if his receptionist were uncertain about the spontaneous request for refreshments. “Right away sir.” She replied before hanging up. There he stood up and moved to lean against his desk staring at the broken girl that did her best to hide away from the world under one of his end tables. If his hunch were correct, his plan would work to fix part of what this session had done to her. At least he hoped.
About ten minutes passed before the door to his office cracked and slowly opened. Mo’Emori pushed through the door holding a tray balancing a teapot and two cups. Yuma quickly put a finger to his lips and gestured her over. Mo’Emori furrowed her teal brows and followed his instruction. When he pointed to the table between the chairs, she set the tray down with a gentle rattle. She opened her mouth to ask what was going on, he quickly repeated the hushing gesture and waved for her to follow him. She pursed her lips in confused and followed around the chair he often sat in. He gestured towards the end table, and she immediately saw the reason for silence.
Yuma watched as Mo’Emori’s expression softened, turning into a frown. When she turned to him all he could do is gesture towards Morrigan and mouth ‘talk to her please.’ He took two long paces back and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, next to where the plant had struck the wall.
Morrigan’s mind was dark, emotionless. It was quiet and felt safe for her. Meanwhile her soul radiated the pain of that night held dormant for three long years. Her mind protected her from it in the shell it created. “Oh Mori…” a soft, silky voice pierced the veil over Morrigan. Almost frightful her head shot up from her knees, moving the hood from in front of her eyes. Her eyes burned badly as she focused, showing her a lovely white and blue floral dress and long teal hair. Tracing her gaze, she finally focused on a beautiful face wearing a sad, worried expression.
Mo'Emori. Registered in her brain as she looked up at the Eskarii woman who knelt just three feet in front of her. Her lip began to quiver, tears lining her eyes, as a torrent of happiness and heartache filled her. Mo’Emori looked down on her with compassion and concern in her eyes, the bright yellow outlining the mirror of her wide black pupils that reflected Morrigan’s sorry state. She watched her quirk a sad smile before reaching out with both arms, “would you like a hug?” she asked.
That is what did it for her. With a stifled breath and sniffle Morrigan nodded pleadingly as she fought to keep what she managed to put back together intact. Crawling out from underneath the table, losing her hood as she all but tossed herself in the waiting arms of Mo’Emori. As soon as her arms clasped around her, the dam broke again and could not do anything but bawl her eyes out into the floral dress as Mo’Emori held her close.
Mo’Emori pulled the young girl tighter against her as she rested her cheek against the girl’s head and began stroking her hair tenderly.
Yuma hung his head with a soft breath of relief as he heard his receptionist begin to hum an Eskarii song while she stroked the young woman’s hair. With a small smile he was happy his plan worked. He quietly stepped back to his desk, taking his place in his office chair and fished for the form he required. As he began scribbling down what he needed, he looked up to see his receptionist looking up at him as she continued to comfort his patient. ‘Thank you,’ he mouthed. Mo’Emori simply nodded with a soft smile as she continued to hum and rock the woman she adored back into safety. Morrigan’s crying had ceased, which was good news, but the girl’s hold on her was still tight from the emotional turmoil she was experiencing. With that he continued filling out the form he was working on.
Time extended far past their session. Morrigan was lulled to sleep by Mo’Emori. Letting his receptionist return to work, he picked the young sleeping woman up off the floor and put her in the over-sized chair for comfort and returned to his desk to wait. Two hours passed before Morrigan shot up in confusion. Dr. Yuma nearly fell asleep at his own desk before sitting straight up. “Looks like you’re finally awake,” he mused. Morrigan brushed her hair out of her face and tried to gain her bearings.
Looking around, she yawned and asked, “what happened?” As she looked around the clock caught her eye. She realized the time, “oh shit.” She looked around more slowly regaining her memory of the past three hours, turning to the end table only to see the potted plant broken at the base of the wall, “oh shit!” she groaned. She planted her face in her hands in defeat before looking up at Yuma. “Dr. Yuma I am so sorry; I didn’t mean to…” she started.
Dr. Yuma raised a hand cutting her off before leaning forward, “think nothing of it Ms. Clarke. I’m not mad, honestly with the exceptional breakthrough we had today I think it was worth a measly plant.” He chuckled. He could see her connecting the dots of what transpired.
Panic began to set in when she remembered everything she said. Color drained from her face looking at him wide eyed, “what are you going to do? What are you going to say? Where’s Mo’Emori?” she stammered through rapid fire.
Yuma raised his hand again and stood from his desk to walk around and took his place across from her. “One thing at a time,” he chuckled even more. Was it rude of him to find her realization of what transpired amusing? Probably. “First, Mo’Emori had to return to work and reschedule some of my later appointments seeing as—"
“Fuck my life. Seriously Dr…”
“Seriously Ms. Clarke, it’s no trouble. Secondly, I gave you a promise that everything that was said would be confidential and stays between you and me. I was honest about that, and nothing that was said will ever leave this office.” He finished. Morrigan sighed in relief as she sunk into the chair. She watched him fish into his pocket and cocked her head curiously. He presented it to her, “besides, I needed time to write a few copies of this, this one is for your records.” He noted.
She cautiously took the folded piece of paper from him. She eyed him trying to see what kind of trick he was playing before unfolding the piece of paper. As she began to read her eyes lit up and a smile spread across her face. “Are you serious?” she asked enthusiastically.
He smiled and nodded while gesturing to the paper, “yes as of today you are released from court ordered sessions with me. I have filled out the necessary paperwork to satisfy the judge and waved next week’s session.” She watched her smile get even wider.
“Thank you so much Dr. Yuma!” She said as she got up to give him a hug. She was completely relieved and elated.
Thrown off in surprise, he patted her shoulder before she pulled away, “you’re quite welcome, now you’re not required to attend sessions with me, I would like you to consider continuing your therapy. You’ve made considerable progress and would probably excel seeing as there is no longer the weight of legal punishment on your shoulders.”
She gave it a quick thought and nodded, “honestly, I originally hated this, but you might be right. Perhaps I will come back after graduation. Got to get past that next hurdle before I can focus on the next right?”
He smiled and nodded, “I think that’s fair.” As he stood and walked around back to his desk he motioned to the door, “though now you should probably get home and get some rest. No need to worry, I have already called your mother and let her know why you are late.” He stated. She nodded a thank you before heading to the door.
As she touched the door handle, she paused. Turning to her therapist who began filling out papers, “Dr. Yuma.”
He looked up at her, “I appreciate that you hired Mo’Emori. You treat her with respect, and I respect that. Please never get rid of her.” She told him.
He chuckled, “Well you will always see her here if you decide to come back, now won’t you?” he mused.
She blushed and smiled in response as she opened the door stepping out. She continued down the hall towards the front desk where she saw the Eskarii woman typing away. She hesitated before approaching. She tried to hide the smile on her face but failed miserably.
Mo’Emori looked up with a smile, “I'm glad to see you’re feeling better Mori!”
Morrigan’s face flushed even more as she grinned. She cleared her throat and said, “I wanted to say–thank you, for um–being there for me today.”
Mo’Emori grinned in returned, her vibrant smile hitting Morrigan in the heart. “Of course, sweetheart! Now you just have to make sure you come see me sometime. Now that you are no longer a patient, maybe we can get coffee or tea?” she asked Morrigan.
Morrigan blushed fiercely unable to fight the stupid grin on her face. She was not surprised Dr. Yuma had told her his decision to release her, but she was more than happy knowing Mo’Emori still wanted to see her. “You bet!” she said through a nervous laugh.
Not wanting to make things awkward she backed away waving before heading out the door. Only to peer back to see Mo’Emori waving enthusiastically the second she looked. It had been one rough and embarrassing day for Morrigan, but she would not trade it for the world.