Maverick

I don’t know why I even came. It wasn’t like the counseling from the week before helped. Now I sat in the too silent room, with too bright windows and all white furniture. Courtney cleared her throat after a few minutes.

“I’m glad you came back, Maverick. How have you been?”

I shrugged. I don’t know why her voice irritated me so much. “I’m okay.”

Courtney smiled politely and adjusted her glasses on her nose. “Last time you were here, you had a memory and panicked. Anymore of those?”

“No. I had a nightmare the other night.”

She shifted her gaze to me. “What about?”

“My childhood, one of my mother’s boyfriends beating me.”

Courtney put her notepad to the side, and curled her laced fingers around her crossed legs. “Do you often have nightmares about that?”

I shifted nervously, looking at the clock, which had hardly moved since I sat down. “Sometimes, yeah.”

“Did you ever tell anyone about it?” she asked. “Your mother? The police?”

I scoffed, scrubbing my palm down my face. “My mother did