AGE: 14-20
A girl accompanies her suicidal friend to a counselling session
Lily came to me today, halfway through Biology, and said she needed me to come with her somewhere. I didn’t question it, and frankly, I was so utterly fed-up of learning the function of a scrotum that I was more than happy to leave. Honestly, you’d be surprised how much of the curriculum is labelling a penis accurately, it’s thoroughly intolerable in any circumstance, but in an all-girls school, God it’s - anyway. Lily goes up to Mrs Smith and asks, quite casually, ‘May I go to the counsellor?’. ‘Oh, of course, yes certainly, please’ she gushes, in that clearly uncomfortable manner, similar to when you ask a male teacher if you can go to the toilet. If you say you need to go to the counsellor, teachers at our school will practically bend over backwards in order for you to get there, probably because they don’t want to feel responsible if one of us decides to bite the dust, if you know what I mean.
So Lily and I make our way to the counsellors office, undisturbed. The corridors are unnaturally quiet. She had to wait 3 months on a waiting list to get an appointment today. If that’s not a red-flag, I don’t know what is. I suppose that’s the price you pay for straight A*s. Usually laid-back Lily is noticeably on-edge but I don’t mention it because I know she’ll get defensive. Her hands are shaking slightly so I knock on the counsellors door. We hear the clip-clop of heels and the door swings open to reveal a 20 something blonde with multiple lanyards draped around her neck and a pencil skirt. ‘You must be Lily!’ she gasps while ushering us inside.
‘This is Bella. I brought her along for moral support,’ Lily laughs nervously. The counsellor invites us both to perch on a stiff yellow sofa.
‘I’m Sam!’ blonde Dr Phil twinkles. Sam. Such a pretentious, inconclusive name. Can’t decide if it’s male or female. Sams office is…minimalist. A single cactus sits alone on the white windowsill which matches the white walls which match the off-white carpet. It smells distinctly like…Jo Malone incense. Oh, there it is. ‘So I understand you’ve come here to talk about your feelings’.
‘No, actually I wanted to discuss JFK’s presidency’. There is a moments silence. ‘I’m joking’, Lily assures, gauchely.
‘Oh!’ Sam laughs. Another moments silence. God, this is awkward. Eventually Sam chimes in, ’So how have you been feeling recently?’.
‘Oh, you know. Overloaded with homework, tired, unmotivated…pretty much the standard Year 11 student’. Sam is scribbling away in a white notebook and her legs are crossed elegantly.
‘And how long have you been feeling like this?’. Lily pauses for a second, as if debating her answer.
‘It started about a year ago but it’s gotten worse recently’.
‘I see.’ Sam ceases her writing and looks up at Lily intently. She seems to be rethinking her next question.
‘And have you ever had…thoughts?’
Thoughts? What does she mean ‘thoughts’? Everyone has thoughts, Sam. I could do this job. And just as I was writing her off as a really shitty counsellor, I realise. Thoughts. Those kind of thoughts. Like slit your wrists with your dads razor kind of thoughts. Jesus, this is getting a bit intense. I mean, Lily only wanted to come here to bunk biology, right?…Right? I turn to her, expecting her to laugh dismissively in that Lily way and say ‘Oh God no. Honestly, I just need more sleep’. But she doesn’t. She’s staring at the ground. Lily never stares at the ground. Then she’s nodding her head. And suddenly my blood goes very cold. My head feels heavy. And it’s like watching a jigsaw puzzle that you finally completed be smashed apart. It’s like everything you thought you knew about someone just disappears, all the laughs and memories and vows are cruelly snatched away, just like that. And all you want to do is hug them and tell them everything will be all right and cry, but you can’t cry because you’re the only thing stopping them from crying. So you just sit there, silently furious, because no 16 year old should have to feel like that, nobody should have to feel like that. And when it’s finally over, you get up and say your goodbyes and just as you’re leaving, Sam grabs your arm.
It snaps me quite abruptly out of my trance and I stare at her in question. ‘Hey. Are you OK?’.
‘No,’ I think.
‘Yes,’I lie. She looks unconvinced but smiles anyway. ‘Well, you know I’m always here if you need to talk’. And with that, she shuts her door. I stand there for a while.
‘Thanks…I’ll add my name to the waiting list’. Lily is loitering, so I swallow and walk away from the counsellors office, back to Biology, arm in arm with my suicidal best friend.