Brea Mitchell
"There's nothing you should be sorry about." The man said to Brea. She crooked her mouth and shook her head slightly, indicating that there probably was and he was just nice for not acknowledging it, "I know exactly what you mean." He sighed and then seemed to go off into his own mind.
"Are you alright?" She asked, but he didn't seem to hear her. She recognized that look. It was look of forgotten memories, one she tried to avoid as often as possible. But, since Cam had called her, she knew what she would be dreaming about tonight, and she was certainly not looking forward to it.
"I must apologize, I have just so many thoughts these days," the man said and she smiled. He had never introduced himself, but as he smiled a painful smile, he at last shook her outstretched hand, "Deen. It is a pleasure to meet you."
"You as well," she said. Deen leaned back against the bench, and Brea followed suit, looking up at the clouds, remembering the days in her innocence when she would look for shapes and animals. But, apparently, a side effect of growing up was that you could no longer see the fun things, only big white puffs emblazoned in the sky. "In these days I just try to lean back. Breathing in and then out. Enjoying the sun, the wind, the faint chirping of birds in the background... even the laughter of the kids if you want to." She listened, breathed, and tried her best to hear the relaxing things but for some reason her mind was jumping from place to place, never landing on anything. Deen winked at her and she smiled, almost laughed, but then didn't. She didn't really do much laughing these days, always burdened by a heavy work load and now ex-boyfriend drama that should have stayed in high school but didn't. "It really works to calm my nerves down. At least, most of the times."
"Hm, doesn't seem to work for me, though. Oh well," Brea said. She sat back up, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hand, looking back at Deen with a slight smile on her face. He really was quite handsome, though she'd never been into guys who styled the longer hair. Too bad she didn't have the time or the mental preparedness to date or she might actually try something. Who knows?
"So, Brea. What a lovely name. Brea. You have the same name as my cousin. She should be three by now." Brea smiled at Deen, liking that they had something in common. She imagined a three year old version of her and almost snorted with how ridiculous the picture was, but covered it up with a cough. "Now, tell me, Brea. What happened that made you in such a mood today? Talking will make you feel better, I assure you." Deen looked into her eyes and Brea looked away uncomfortably, not really wanting to scare off an actual human being so soon. As pathetic as it was, this was Brea's first real conversation with someone other than a coworker in a really long time, and she didn't want to put that in jeopardy for as long as this was going to last.
"Oh, you know, this and that. Work, personal life, everything mixed into one. No different from other common grievances I suppose," she said, looking towards the trees as she remembered a particular night when a broken beer bottle had been slashed across her face by the aforementioned ex-boyfriend. She hadn't delved into those memories in a long time, but sometimes her subconscious would bring them in when she was in a particularly exhausted sleep and that was the only times when she wanted to remember them. Only when she didn't have a choice but to experience them all over again. She didn't want to experience them again, and she also realized she must have been in her thoughts for quite some time now. Shaking her head, she smiled at Deen, "Sorry, apparently I have too many thoughts today as well. I should be going, it was nice talking to you," she said as she stood up and grabbed her notebook. Pulling out a business card, she held it out to Deen, "If you ever need a social worker, you know who to call," she said. She walked away without a backwards glance, wondering if she would see him again, or if she even wanted to. But, she asserted that she did. He did seem like someone she would like to have an actual conversation with sometime.
Getting back to her apartment, she threw her stuff on the counter and immediately opened the cupboard and retrieved her favorite bottle of red wine. Pouring herself a generous glass, she sat at the marble counter top and closed her eyes, breathing deeply and trying to come to terms with the fact that tonight was not going to be a very good night after her earlier events.
"There's nothing you should be sorry about." The man said to Brea. She crooked her mouth and shook her head slightly, indicating that there probably was and he was just nice for not acknowledging it, "I know exactly what you mean." He sighed and then seemed to go off into his own mind.
"Are you alright?" She asked, but he didn't seem to hear her. She recognized that look. It was look of forgotten memories, one she tried to avoid as often as possible. But, since Cam had called her, she knew what she would be dreaming about tonight, and she was certainly not looking forward to it.
"I must apologize, I have just so many thoughts these days," the man said and she smiled. He had never introduced himself, but as he smiled a painful smile, he at last shook her outstretched hand, "Deen. It is a pleasure to meet you."
"You as well," she said. Deen leaned back against the bench, and Brea followed suit, looking up at the clouds, remembering the days in her innocence when she would look for shapes and animals. But, apparently, a side effect of growing up was that you could no longer see the fun things, only big white puffs emblazoned in the sky. "In these days I just try to lean back. Breathing in and then out. Enjoying the sun, the wind, the faint chirping of birds in the background... even the laughter of the kids if you want to." She listened, breathed, and tried her best to hear the relaxing things but for some reason her mind was jumping from place to place, never landing on anything. Deen winked at her and she smiled, almost laughed, but then didn't. She didn't really do much laughing these days, always burdened by a heavy work load and now ex-boyfriend drama that should have stayed in high school but didn't. "It really works to calm my nerves down. At least, most of the times."
"Hm, doesn't seem to work for me, though. Oh well," Brea said. She sat back up, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hand, looking back at Deen with a slight smile on her face. He really was quite handsome, though she'd never been into guys who styled the longer hair. Too bad she didn't have the time or the mental preparedness to date or she might actually try something. Who knows?
"So, Brea. What a lovely name. Brea. You have the same name as my cousin. She should be three by now." Brea smiled at Deen, liking that they had something in common. She imagined a three year old version of her and almost snorted with how ridiculous the picture was, but covered it up with a cough. "Now, tell me, Brea. What happened that made you in such a mood today? Talking will make you feel better, I assure you." Deen looked into her eyes and Brea looked away uncomfortably, not really wanting to scare off an actual human being so soon. As pathetic as it was, this was Brea's first real conversation with someone other than a coworker in a really long time, and she didn't want to put that in jeopardy for as long as this was going to last.
"Oh, you know, this and that. Work, personal life, everything mixed into one. No different from other common grievances I suppose," she said, looking towards the trees as she remembered a particular night when a broken beer bottle had been slashed across her face by the aforementioned ex-boyfriend. She hadn't delved into those memories in a long time, but sometimes her subconscious would bring them in when she was in a particularly exhausted sleep and that was the only times when she wanted to remember them. Only when she didn't have a choice but to experience them all over again. She didn't want to experience them again, and she also realized she must have been in her thoughts for quite some time now. Shaking her head, she smiled at Deen, "Sorry, apparently I have too many thoughts today as well. I should be going, it was nice talking to you," she said as she stood up and grabbed her notebook. Pulling out a business card, she held it out to Deen, "If you ever need a social worker, you know who to call," she said. She walked away without a backwards glance, wondering if she would see him again, or if she even wanted to. But, she asserted that she did. He did seem like someone she would like to have an actual conversation with sometime.
Getting back to her apartment, she threw her stuff on the counter and immediately opened the cupboard and retrieved her favorite bottle of red wine. Pouring herself a generous glass, she sat at the marble counter top and closed her eyes, breathing deeply and trying to come to terms with the fact that tonight was not going to be a very good night after her earlier events.