"Good morning. This is target."
"Good morning Chancey"
"Ew. Never do that again."
"What? Say Chancey? Don't like it?"
"Correct."
"Too bad, Chancey."
"I'm not even going to try arguing with you. It's too early. I need coffee. How's your arm?"
"Healing."
"Duh."
"It's fine, Chance. Thank you."
"What?"
"What?"
"You just thanked me. YOU KILLED DONALD. WHERE IS THE REAL DONALD?!"
"I can't say thank you?"
"No. It's weird."
"Fine. I take it back."
"I don't really care. But, let me at least try to get to know you. I'm your therapist right?"
"That was a joke."
"Not anymore. Let's do ten questions. You answer. I answer."
"And if I don't want to?"
"I'll kill you. So, you don't have much of a choice."
"You don't know -"
"Farah, you don't have much of a choice. So answer the damn questions."
"Alright, fine."
"How old are you?"
"Sixteen. And you?"
"Just turned eighteen. HA. RESPECT YOUR ELDERS."
"Two. Years. Older. WHY."
"Cause I'm cool and you're not."
"Shut up, Bobby."
"Bobby?"
"Since I'm Donald, you're Bobby."
"Donald and Bobby. Farah and Chance. Doesn't sound bad, actually."
"Which one?"
"Both."
"The asshole has a heart? Aw."
"Shut up and ask a question."
"I technically did. But okay, smart ass. You finished high school?"
"Yeah. This year. In September, I'm off to college."
"Lucky you. I have one year left. What college did you have in mind?"
"Harvard."
"I'm sure you'll get in."
"...Are you being nice to me?"
"I could be nice."
"Stop. You sound...pure. It's scaring the absolute shit out of me."
A/N - Updated twice because yolo.
-Gyana
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...
