“Why aren't you saying anything?” she snapped. "You still have a lot you need to let out," I replied. “I don’t think I can.” “Try.” I grabbed my ballpoint pen and placed its nib on my notepad again. "You must be thinking I'm mad, or completely insane. As far as this has gone, you couldn't diagnose what was wrong with me either, right? I'm sorry. This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come here in the first place." My ballpoint pen slipped and fell to the ground, creating a long blue streak across my notepad. I adjusted my glasses. I closed my notepad. I sat up straighter. “Miss Elara June.” I noticed her holding her breath. “There is nothing wrong with you.” She said. "See? That's what the others said before they recommended me to someone else—" "Miss Elara. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you." “Doctor...?” "Miss Elara June. There is nothing wrong with you. You grew up in a strict family where you had to think twice before speaking. It was a crowded place, yet you always felt alone. Your parents didn't give you much attention, so you developed a relationship with your own thoughts. At first, they were just made-up stories. Whispers. Fragments of sentences. The feeling of someone judging you—playing out their mind inside your head all the time. Walking outside. Staying inside. All the time." I paused to let it sink in. "Until you realized you lived alone and no one was judging you. Your friend was there for you. So, you muted those thoughts. And that is when the problem started. You stopped entertaining those thoughts, but your mind couldn't survive without them, so it started manufacturing its own voices—voices that are just noise to you but make perfect sense to your subconscious. Those are all the words you've been repressing, all the sentences you perceived as hurtful. They all mixed together and took up space when you were quiet and alone. The problem didn't start five months ago, Elara. It started way before that." "How? How did you know all of that?" "I didn't," I said softly. "I just guessed." “Can I... what do I... “ She paused to find the right words, “....how can I cure myself?” "You can come for therapy here. I can show you how to quiet your mind and how to actually start living." "Can I actually do that? Quiet my mind?" "Of course you can. The mind should be controlled by you, not the other way around." She let out a sharp breath, and her eyes lit up immediately. She stood up from where she was sitting. “Thank you so much, Doctor.”
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