As I closed the front door and left for work, I smiled slightly as I thought back to the moment I spent with Martial. I enjoyed visiting him at the cemetery and taking care of his grave was important to me. During these moments, I could almost feel his presence and it was a comforting situation.
Once in the office, I greeted Imogen who was drinking a cup of coffee near the entrance and went to my office to put my bag on my desk. I sat in front of my computer and turned it on before checking the meetings of the day. I still had some time before my first meeting so I got up and walked toward the coffee machine.
"Hey, everything went well?" Imogen asked as she was sipping on her steamy cup.
"Yes... Nazar came with me. It was great." I explained before adding, with a silent sigh. "I told him about the opportunity we had to foster a child... He hasn't answered me yet but it surprised him a lot and I could see that he was hesitant. I'm not sure he will agree..."
"It's understandable to be hesitant. He's blind so big life changes like that must be scary, especially when he's so dependend on you." She answered and sent me a reassuring smile.
"I know that but he had never been a big fan of children and I don't want him to agree just to make me happy and then become resentful..." I sighed softly before asking. "Any news about Chloé?"
"I called her a few days ago. She's supposed to give birth in two months and her husband is taking a good care of her." She explained and I smiled at these words. I would need to call her soon. I hadn't been able to see her since she moved to Manchester. "And what are you going to do if he refuses to foster a child?" She asked, going back on this subject.
"What do you want me to do? We're a team and I can't force him. That's something we both need to agree to."
She smiled at my words and threw her empty cup into a bin before walking back to her office. I went back in mine, knowing that she had a meeting soon and closed the door behind me. I really liked this small building that Imogen and I rented. It was a modern building in the city center that was big enough for both of our offices and we arranged a small entrance with chairs, a coffee machine and a few toys for our youngest patients.
As the time went by, I looked at my next meeting's info and opened the correct file to read what I had about this patient. I quickly realized that I didn't have a lot of information, except for his name: Matt Carter and the fact that he was 16. There was also the reason why he was coming. I got up when I heard the front door being opened and greeted the foster care worker and the teenager in front of me. He had a black eye contrasting with his pale skin and his red hair. I invited him in my office while the foster care worker waited on one of the free chairs. I closed my office door behind us and turned toward him. "Before we start, do you want something to drink?"
"I'm fine." He answered in a rough voice, still looking at me curiously.
I nodded and sat on my chair before starting to speak. "Can you tell me why you are here?"
"You know why I am here." He replied simply while crossing his arms on his chest.
"I would rather hear it from you." I said and, as he didn't answer, I added. "I'm here to help you. And everything will stay between us. I promise."
"What about a deal?" I frowned slightly at his answer not expecting it. "You answer my questions and I will answer yours."
My eyes widened slightly at these words. It wasn't the first time a child or a teenager had difficulties expressing themselves and confessing their problems but it was the first time one tried to blackmail me. "I'm listening." I ended up saying, wanting to know what he had in mind.
"How did you get all these scars on your face?"
I looked at his curious blue eyes and I would have been lying if I said that I didn't expect a question like that. It wasn't the first time someone asked me questions about it but it was the first time someone refused to speak if I didn't explain what happened to me.
"If I answer this question, you will tell me why you are here?" I asked and saw him nod. "Someone did this to me when I was young. I ended at the hospital and then I had to learn how to live with my new appearance."
"Do you have other scars on your body?"
"I don't mind answering your questions but you need to answer mines as well. Why are you here?" I asked and saw him sigh loudly.
"I hit someone at the orphanage but as you can see, I got hit as well." He finally answered while showing me his black eye.
"I see. To answer your question, I have many different scars across my body. Why did you fight with someone?"
"Because of something he said." He answered and I could feel that he didn't want to talk about it. "Does it hurt to feel people's looks or to hear the comments they make about you?"
I took a minute to think about this question while observing him. I was trying to understand if his questions could be related to him and his problems. Was he suffering from the thoughts others had about him? Was it what caused the fight between him and that other boy? "It used to hurt a lot. I was ashamed and I felt like nothing good would ever happen to me. But I ended up finding some good and important people. They helped me a lot and I wouldn't be here without them." I ended up saying, telling him the truth. "What did that boy tell you for you to hit him?"
His eyes left my face and moved on his lap and I could see the struggle. I waited patiently, not wanting to rush him as I knew it wouldn't help. After a while, he whispered so low I almost didn't hear him. "He told me I wouldn't get adopted because of what happened when I was younger..."
"And what happened?" I asked in a soft voice while looking at him. He had lost all the confidence he had when he arrived. "You can tell me anything, I won't judge you."
"I got molested..."
My heart clenched at these words and I looked at him for a few seconds without saying anything. He was still staring at his lap and looked nervous. Hearing the past of children and teenagers was one of the hardest part of my job and it was always an emotional moment. "I hope you know that it's not true... It wasn't your fault. But answering with violence is never the solution." He shrugged at my words but didn't raise his eyes or say anything. "I can help you if you let me. Do you want us to work on it together? We could schedule a meeting every week or every two weeks."
"How? How can you help me?" He asked, slowly raising his eyes to meet mine.
"It will be a few steps process and I won't lie by telling you it will be easy. It won't because you will have to relieve these horrible memories but, in the end, it will help you."
"Is that what happened for your scars?"
"Yes. I was so ashamed of the way I looked that I ended up doing armful things to myself to forget and feel better. But I felt better only in the moment. I almost lost the most important person in my life because of that. I ended up getting help and talking about my past and how I got these scars in detail. It wasn't easy but we wouldn't be talking if it wasn't for that." I told him truthfully with a small smile. I could see in his eyes that he was thinking about what I just told him. I usually wasn't so truthful but he was older than most of my patients and it seemed the best way to win his trust.
After a minute of silence he nodded slowly and I smiled. I knew it would be a long process but I was sure I could help him. As the session was almost over, I spent the next few minutes asking him random questions to get to know him a little more. Once it was time for him to leave, I got up and accompagnied him to the door. "I will see you next week alright?" He didn't answer but nodded which was enough for me.
I smiled slightly at the foster care worker and told them one last goodbye as they left the venue. I sighed slightly as I closed the door behind me and went back to my computer where I wrote a small report of what happened during this session, so I could remember it clearly and, with time, follow his progress. Thirty minutes later, I got up to greet my next patient, a seven years old girl that lost her parents in a house fire. I had been following her progress for a while and I smiled as she greeted me with a quick hug. She was making great progress and I knew that soon she wouldn't need to come here so often. I hoped she would live a happy life with her aunt and her cousins but I knew I didn't need to worry too much. I had seen how strong willed she was.
The rest of the day was spent meeting patients, seeing their progress and giving them some advices. When the day was over, I felt happy and exhausted at the same time. I made my way back home and smiled softly when I saw Nazar in the kitchen preparing dinner. I hugged him from behind and put a small kiss at the back of his neck.
"How was your day?" He asked as he turned around and put a small kiss on my lips.
"Tired but I'm glad I'm making some progress..." I replied, giving him one last peck before removing my arms from his body.
"That's good. I made dinner, I hope you're hungry."
I set the table while Nazar was finishing the salad and helped him bring the dishes on the table. "So, what did you do today?" I asked once we started to eat.
"Nothing special. I worked out a little. I read and listened to music... And I sat on the porch a little to enjoy the weather."
I smiled as I heard these words, feeling a little sad at the same time that I couldn't spend as much time with him as before. As much as I disliked my job at the morgue, it allowed me to spend a big part of the days with him instead of only the evenings or early mornings. The fact that he also was alone and stuck at home for a big part of the day made me think back to the brief conversation I had with Imogen earlier. "What would you think about getting a guide dog?"
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