"Hi! Thank you for calling Target. How can I help you today?"
"Hey."
"DONALD?! Is it you?!"
"..."
"IT IS YOU. DONALD, I'VE BEEN READING BOOKS. FOR YOUR CRAZY ASS."
"Reading books? What? What are you talking about?"
"Kindly shut up. And listen to me. Never hang up like that again. Or disappear. I've been stressed because you haven't called in days. I thought something happened. But I've been reading simple articles, some forums. Watched some videos. I know it's not much, or anything serious, but I want to help, okay? I've read that usually harming yourself begins from stuff that happens at home. Or school. Or any kind of trauma, really. Are you okay? How long has this been happening? Have you told anyone else?"
"Overwhelming questions, therapist. You have to have more patience and take it slow. That's the first thing you need to know if you want to help. And secondly, Don't pity Donald. I'm alright."
"You're not alright. Please don't tell me you're alright after hanging up the last call after saying you need bandages to cover the marks on your arm. Doesn't sound like it's okay. And you told me for some reason, even though I'm a complete stranger. Maybe that's how you cope. Maybe other people didn't care and just moved on even when you told them you were suffering. But I can't. I seriously can't, even though I don't know you. But we can start there. Let's get to know each other, yeah? Please? Just agree. Fuck."
"... You're saying so much right now. And also acting so different, as if a switch was flipped. I can't comprehend this."
"I swear, you're going to make me lose my marbles and my patience. As you can see, I'm not the ideal therapist. But baby steps. If I tell you my name, will you tell me yours?"
"My name is Donald Trump."
"No, Donald. Your real name. Don't be complicated."
"... Okay, fine. I'll tell you. Possibly."
"Fine. It's Chance. My name is Chance."
"Chance? HA. GIVE ME A CHANCE, CHANCE."
"..."
"CHANCE, GIVE ME ONE MORE CHANCE. I'LL CHANGE."
"... I regret telling you my name now."
"My lord, your parents must hate you."
"..."
"God. That's humiliating."
"... Now I see it."
"See what?"
"Me drowning you."
"..."
"Is this how you act when someone tells you their name? Judge them? This is why I can't be your therapist. I literally want to murder you myself."
"It's Farah, you big baby. Be my therapist."
"Farah."
"Yes. Farah."
" It's different. I like it."
"My mom had a classmate with the same name, so wanted the name for her future kid. Some great creativity there. But just give it a chance, Chance...HA. I'M HILARIOUS."
"I for one, don't find it funny."
"... Alright, you big baby. I'll stop joking around."
"..."
"ONLY IF YOU GIVE ME ONE MORE CHANCE. HAHAHHA."
"You corny bastard."
YOU ARE READING
Anger Management
Short Story❝Good morning. This is Target, how can I help you?❞ ❝Why do I have the sudden urge to kill my family?❞ ❝...Woah...well...shit. Ma'am, I think you dialed the wrong number.❞ ❝No. I dialed correctly. Are you any help?❞ ❝...No sé qué decir a esta chica...
