The History of Eliza Carpenter

Chapter 1 - Therapy Time

"I hate rain. Seriously. There is nothing Mother Nature created that I hate more than rain. In most cases it's just completely useless and extremely annoying. So there, that's something that pisses me off. Your turn, Doc." The middle aged psychologist sitting next to Eliza laughed for a while before he came up with a fitting answer. "I'd rather defend that good ol’ liquid that’s falling out of the grey skies instead of bashing it, or telling you something that irritates me, for that matter. Many farmers and fishermen would disagree with you on this topic."

Eugene Thomson was his name. Doctor Eugene Thomson, if I may. Gained a master in psychology, in far-off days. A regular family man, the typical man in the street. That is, if you forget about his profession: he was in charge of the mental condition of quite an amount of people in the St. Germain Clinic in Bellingham, Washington. "Well, yeah, but that's their job. What about the majority of the population? You know, the people who won’t starve without it. What does rain bring to them, except for suicidal tendencies and dreams about a sunny, dry summer day?” The odd pair was seated in two egg-shaped lounging chairs before a window that reached to the ceiling. They didn’t look at eachother while speaking. Instead, they were looking out the window, at the rainy, green landscape that ran as far as the horizon. Eliza took a sip of her orange juice. “Besides, that wasn’t part of the deal. We agreed that if I told you about something I can’t stand, you’d tell me something you can’t stand in return,” she complained. But the grey-haired man ignored that last statement, and just decided to answer the young woman’s question. “It brings them refreshment, Eliza. A new beginning. It washes away bad memories.”

At this point, Thomson turned his egg-chair towards Eliza, looking at her with expecting, big, round eyes. But the girl remained silent and still, staring at the sea of grass before her. The twosome remained in this position for a couple of minutes, before Eliza interrupted the silence. “I also hate orange juice.” And with that, the conversation was ended; Eliza put her glass on the floor, stood up and opened the door of the psychologist’s office, but before she could step out, the man was already right behind her, and grabbed her arm, gently, but tightly. “You can’t run from your responsibilities forever, Eliza,” he tried to convince her as he closed the door again.

The girl turned around and looked him right in the eyes. A single tear ran down her cheek, which the older man immediately wiped away with the back of his hand. He pulled her into a tight embrace, and to his surprise, Eliza answered the hug. He led her back to the chairs, and the both of them sat down once more. “You’ve been here for 4 months, and even though I have started to take a great liking to your presence, I wish for you to get out of here as soon as possible. A mental clinic is no place for a young woman like you. You have a whole life to live. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me anything about your life.” And again, there was a long silence between the pair. “Where should I start?” Eliza eventually whispered. Thomson smiled slightly. “At the beginning, I suggest.” His patient nodded. “It all started 2 years ago...”

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So there you have it, the first part of The History of Eliza Carpenter. I hope you enjoy, and that there will be many parts to follow!
Feedback is very much appreciated. I'd really like to learn from my successes and mistakes, so please let me know what you think about it, what could be better about it and if I should continue with it!

Love, Miss Mira