Chapter Text
Ordinary days succeed each other, thick clouds spread across the sky slowly but surely filling the mind.
Tyler Galpin is a teenager. And his mental state leaves a lot to be desired. If you exclude his mother's death, his father's complete neglect, depression, getting used to people too quickly, loneliness, and a few other mental aberrations, he was quite ordinary. Too much, even.
And now, it's happening again. He stands in front of the psychologist's office again, not daring to knock. Actually, he was supposed to come with his father, but the latter, wishing him good luck in the session, only threw money on his card and left again for the police station.
It doesn't make him angry, now, just disappointing. Just the tiniest bit.
A quiet knock and he hears an unaccustomed ringing voice. The psychologist seems very young.
Tyler has had five psychologists and all, indirectly or directly, have given up on him. Frankly, Tyler couldn't figure out why. He hadn't mentioned that he was going to torture anyone, or that he'd been too explicit about his nightmares, but here he was, standing at the door and his mind was a familiar void.
- Hello," two large, unaccustomed black eyes look at him. It is a girl in her twenties, she is a head shorter than him, and she looks like a gothic queen. That's right, a queen, because this girl had a bloody ink-colored robe. Tarred hair, braided into two long braids, lips dyed dead-purple.
- Hello, Tyler Galpin," the girl, without breaking eye contact, approaches the young man and holds out her hand for the familiar gesture of greeting. But for some reason, the boy flinches and stands in bewilderment for a few seconds.
- I suppose it will be difficult for you to get used to me, but you will have to trust me. My goal is to make your life less shitty and at least a little bit good. However, I don't like the word "good" because it's too vague and everyone understands it differently, but that's not the point...
To say that Tyler literally went numb, swallowed his tongue and stopped breathing is just kidding. He was, don't get me wrong, in shock. And in the kind of shock that sends chills running down my spine and makes me dizzy with the incoherence of the existing and the ubiquitous.
- Still, don't just stand there, sit in the chair-this girl's name is Wansday, which was something strange to Tyler. Unusual, unnatural and at the same time, it was delightful.
- All the reviews say you're too unemotional, but that seems outdated," Wansday Addams takes a seat in the leather chair across from him, without the usual sheets of paper from his file, without pen or pencil, not even a notebook. She sits down, leans back, and tilts her head slightly and stares.
- You're staring so intently," there's no tension between them, though, to dispel the incomprehensible oppressive atmosphere. Tyler ruffles his curly strands and looks anywhere but into the eyes of the psychologist.
- I'm an intern," Wansday said suddenly. - I'm already in the second year of my master's degree, but I have one defect - I can't understand people's emotions. I analyze actions, body reflexes, habits, even breathing rate matters for the diagnosis, but I cannot fully understand people. So I'm on an equal footing with you. It's at your age that people form their final character. But if your body is under the kind of strain that you're under right now, it could be that your personality doesn't fully form. - She's beautiful. It's like she came out of the pen of a medieval writer who was too much into vampires. But you know, it sure as hell suits her.
- Oh, wow, so you're over twenty? - The girl nods, and the corners of her lips lift a little.
- Twenty-six, if that interests you," Tyler smiles embarrassed.
This person doesn't look like a psychologist.
He's a raven, a dark angel, but not, pardon my rudeness, a psychologist.