I shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll tell me it’s wrong if I say yes.”
“Mia, your feelings are never wrong. Can you tell me why you miss her? Judy did terrible things to you. Do you miss that?”
I had been pressured into this line of questioning so many times. Why was it so important for Dr. Marshall to keep harping on Judy? She did “terrible things.” I got it. I did leave though, so wasn’t it obvious that I understood? Were the details really that important? “It doesn’t matter,” I said, glaring at her.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it’s true. Judy punished me and she had her reasons. Why does any of that matter now?”
She tapped her pencil lightly on the mahogany desk in front of her, contemplating her thoughts.
Tap, tap.
I wanted to reach out and grab the pencil. Break it into a million pieces and then throw them in her face. “Can we just move on,” I said louder than before.
Tap, tap, tap.
Fuck that pencil. That’s all I could think. I hated the stupid piece of wood. “You can keep looking at me, but I don’t know what you want me to say,” I said, crossing my arms.
Tap, tap.
“How am I looking at you?”
Like you want to be stabbed with the pencil, I thought. They’d probably strap me in a straitjacket, but it might have been worth it. Anger always seemed to be just below the surface for me lately, ready to boil over. “Can you please stop tapping the pencil?” I said through gritted teeth. I didn’t recognize my voice.
The pencil abruptly stopped its thumping against the desk. “Is it bothering you?” she asked.
“You think?” I answered, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Mia, are you angry?” Dr. Marshall asked.
I was, but wouldn’t answer her. I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. These silly questions weren’t serving a purpose. I saw no point to them or these sessions for that matter. I was where I belonged and nothing was going to change that. Not her questions or her psychobabble.
“Mia, it’s time we talk about the punishments.”
“I don’t want to,” I said sullenly, like a child.
“It’s time.”
I stood up so abruptly I knocked my chair over and began pacing the room. “Why is it so important? So Judy hit me. People get hit all the time. You break a rule, you get punished. Nothing unusual there.” My voice ricocheted off the walls.
Dr. Marshall didn’t even blink as I stormed around her office, screaming my words at her. She was unfazed and if I wasn’t so mad I’d even say she looked pleased. I could see nothing through the red haze of anger that clouded my vision.
“You did not deserve your punishments.”
“You have no idea what I deserved! If you knew everything I did you wouldn’t be saying that.”
“Mia, I’ve seen the pictures,” she said compassionately. “You did nothing to deserve what happened to you. Those marks on your back were not your fault.”
I shuddered slightly. Would there be no end to my shame? I had scars. So what. Plenty of people had scars. “I deserved every single one of mine.”
“Why?” she asked quietly.
“I was bad. All the time. Don’t you see? Mother had rules and as long as I followed them she treated me fairly. If I would have just followed the rules she wouldn’t have done any of this,” I said, pointing at a scar on my shoulder.
Dr. Marshall sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Mia, people break rules all the time. Children test the boundaries their parents set. They get caught, but their punishments don’t involve a leather strap or starvation. That woman took your naivety and used it against you, to make you believe you deserved her form of punishment.”