indigo lightwood | { d4 }

{ SESSION THE FIRST }

"Hello, Indigo! I'm Dr. Marie Rose, and I will be counseling you throughout this difficult point in -"

"Difficult point in life, huh? Yeah, you could call it that."

". . . Why don't we start by telling me about your childhood? Anything in particular that bothers you still today?"

"I was fine until this year. My life was perfectly boring and I loved perfectly boring. It was simple. And now I feel fucked up like a fucking stupid can crushed by a high heeled shoe sitting on the side of the road."

"That was a very specific analogy. Does it -"

"Yeah, it's a specific analogy because that's how I fucking feel. Are you going to try to help me or are we going to sit here and make small talk?"

"Indigo, do you know why you are here?"

"Of course I do, I'm not an idiot."

"Then tell me, why do you think you are here?"

"My parents think I'm depressed and weak and helpless."

"And why do they think that?"

"Because Autumn died."

"Who is - who was Autumn? I understand she was your best friend. Your parents have already informed of everything that happened with Autumn. But I would like to hear from you who she was to you and what happened to her."

"She was a girl who lived next door."

"What was your relationship with her?"

"She was a girl who lived next door."

"Indigo, I'm just trying to get a better understanding of what happened."

"She was a girl who lived next door."

. . .

. . .

"Were you close with Autumn?"

. . .

"She was the girl who lived next door."

"Indigo, please. I can't help you unless -"

"Fuck your help."

"I know the answers to the questions I'm asking you already. But I want your side, not your parents'. Your account is more true than theirs."

. . .

. . .

"We can sit here in silence for an hour every week and you'll still have to waste your time here."

. . .

"You wrote on the original sign up form that Autumn needed help. Why did she need help?"

"Because she was dead and someone needed to put the body to rest."

"What do you mean, she was dead? When she hung herself?"

. . .

"No."

"Can you explain how she was dead before she hung herself? Did . . . did someone make it look like a suicide?"

"No."

"Then -"

"People can die and still have a heartbeat, you know."

"Scientifically -"

"No. Autumn was dead. Her body was still walking and breathing - a shell. Autumn was more dead than a corpse nestled in a casket. And she didn't kill herself. She was murdered."

"And who . . . who 'murdered' her?"

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

"Do you know who it was?"

"Yes, I'm just not going to tell you."

"Indigo -"

"I'm not here to tell you Autumn's secrets."

"So . . . just to get a better understanding, Autumn was dead - on the inside - when she committed suicide?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"But who . . . who was the root of her depression?"

"You mean who killed her?"

"Yes."

"Why are we talking about Autumn? Aren't these sessions supposed to be the me show?"

"Autumn has a great deal to do with your depression."

"I'm not a fucking wounded, helpless animal."

"You're not. But you are depressed. And I'm here to help you."

. . .

"Is there anything else that causes this depression you have recently fallen into? Problems at home? School? Relationships?"

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

"We can just sit here in silence, if that's what you want."

. . .

. . .

. . .

{ BACK TO DECEMBER }

She is thrust brutally into the past by the portal of her memories. They drag her down the stone riddled memory lane, rivulets of blood glistening in their wake. She is locked between the claws of an enraged vortex swirling with wrath.

You will feel pain until there is nothing to feel at all, Indigo Lightwood, it declares.

And suddenly, the ruthless winds settle to gentle zephyrs, like feathers brushing against her skin. She is standing in Autumn's house. She is standing in the room at the end of the hallway on the top floor. She is standing in the room where she unraveled in the winter chill - or perhaps the coldness was from Death singing ghostly notes all around her.

There is a rope and an empty shell suspended in the air.

There is silence, numbing her like needles of ice stabbing into her flesh, crawling with horror.

There is a scream that breaks apart against Death's blade.

The light streaming in from the window is colder than darkness, for light is no longer warm or kind when it no longer illuminates Autumn.

But it was the purple ring around her neck that makes her realize

it's over.

And she's screaming.

She's screaming in the rain from her eyes that hits the floor like rocks.

Her heart is on the floor, torn out of her chest.

SESSION ONE.

From the surface, Indigo Lightwood is perfectly healthy. She is a beautiful young girl, with high cheek bones, a defined jawline, a bit wider nose. Her features remind me of other females in District Four - mainly her skin, tanned deep golden and freckled across the nose and cheeks from countless hours by the sea in the sun.

Her eyes are dark blue, like topazes. Her hair, side-braided this session, is dark brown with honey highlights, probably from sun exposure. She keeps herself very clean and neat, except her hair tends to have a natural tendency to be uncooperative. It quickly reacts to the humidity and becomes wavier and slightly frizzed out. She seems to be very self-aware and self-conscious, from the way she constantly fidgets and fixes her hair.

She doesn't smile at me often, but when she speaks or bites her lip, I can the see the space between her two front teeth. It is an obvious flaw, jutting out like a sore thumb on her face. But not everyone has infinite money to fix every dental issue.

At one glance at her face, rigid with reluctance and anger, I can tell that she is a spitfire with a sharp tongue.

I often see patients struggling with depression who begin to let themselves go. There is no sign of weight loss, according to her parents. They have told me that she still goes out to the beach almost everyday, but she has gone alone ever since Autumn's passing. From this, I can speculate that she prefers to deal with her problems alone.

From speaking to Indigo for only a few minutes, I can tell that she is a very strong girl, who doesn't like to be seen as anything else but strong. I think she keeps her appearance the same as before Autumn's death to keep up her shield, so her parents won't worry more than they already do. I think she truly cares deeply for them and other people. I believe that she doesn't want to cause them any pain.

In our session today, Indigo displayed defensive behavior. She was very shut down and unwilling to speak, making it very clear that she didn't want to be here. But I have confidence that she will, eventually, open up. She must be afraid of hurting more if she talks about Autumn and how she feels. But recovery is pain, and if she doesn't get help, the pain only festers.

SESSION TWO.

Today, Indigo sat in silence and refused to speak, no matter what I said or did. She seems very stubborn, and doesn't like to be told what to do. I should try a much different approach next session to get her to open up.

SESSION THREE.

I am very impressed with Indigo's, given, reluctant, cooperation. I have seen paint like this before, in almost all of my patients. I know how it writhes beneath their skin. Most of them are relieved to spill their sorrows for closure, but Indigo, she tries to keep it all pent up. But she opened up a bit today, shared almost everything that happened with Autumn, and even recollected the day of her suicide.

This is the first step to recovery, and I am very excited for Indigo's future.

SESSION SIX.

Indigo turned eighteen on the day of this session, and despite her progress, will be refusing counseling from now on. This is a huge disappointment - I thought we were getting somewhere. Never before have I failed, and I must evaluate what I did wrong and what I can do better for my patients. I can only hope that Indigo will move on in life and pursue happiness.