Hope

So annoying.

This lady won't stop talking.

She keeps blabbing on and on.

Her high pitched voice bobs up and down like a fishing line casted in water.

"Who is this lady and what does she want?" you ask.

I'm not so sure myself.

She introduced herself to me only but a few minutes ago. Her name took too much of an effort to remember; so I didn't even bother.

What does she look like? I don't really know.

Rather, I don't really care.

She's just a blob, like all the other 7.7 billion walking and talking blobs out there.

Time.

I need to know the time.

How many minutes until I get out of here?

My eyes quickly scan the meticulously decorated walls. However, to my eyes, they are just a bunch of useless shapes used to cover the ugly barren walls. Finally, my eyes stop at the clock.

What did she say in the beginning? That I must stay here for at least an hour? I try to remember back to the conversation we had a few minutes ago, but I must have not been listening.

Correction-- I was not listening, instead I was counting the birds through the window as they passed by. Oh well, I guess I just have to sit here until it ends.

The clock now becomes irrelevant information and turns back into an ordinary circle. I settle in my chair, but somehow, something feels out of place-- like there is something missing.

It takes me a second to realize what it is. The whiny, high pitched drizzle that was coming out of the woman's mouth has vanished into thin air.

I stare at the woman's mouth to confirm that she is no longer talking. It seems to be the case. For a minute, the two of us are engulfed in a heavy blanket of silence.

Ahem, the woman breaks the silence with her unnatural cough.

What's wrong with her?

She looks so uncomfortable, as if she is trying to hint at something... Oh, perhaps she wants something from me?

Must I really use my energy and focus now?

So annoying.

But the situation would be more annoying if I anger her, or cause any unnecessary problems.

She speaks again. This time, instead of the high frequency background noise that used to leak out of her mouth, her voice comes out strong and clear.

"Ren?," she calls out my name, "Perhaps you didn't hear me the first time. Can you tell me why you sought out therapy today?"

Why I sought out therapy... Oh, that's right, I'm in the therapist's office right now, aren't I?

What once used to be a bunch of random shapes and pixels start to become more contrasted and defined. The edges of objects become sharper, and the colors brighten.

Ah, it's happening again, isn't it?

Details I never noticed before, like the white shaggy carpet underneath my feet, or the soft yellow hues of the pillows of the sofa, start to pop out.

Finally, a clear view of the therapist appears in front of me. The therapist has fawn colored, wavy hair thrown casually across her shoulders. A pair of oval brown eyes rest atop of her tall nose. She is wearing light make-up, however, her white smile makes up for her lack of make-up. T

o me, the smile seems fake, as if she has prepared one for every single person who steps into her office. In front of her is a young man with a very blank expression.

The man has shaggy black hair and skin so pale that it has probably never touched the sun's rays. His eyes are like an endless cesspool waiting to devour anyone who dares to stare at them. The dark circles under his eyes do not make him seem any friendlier. The man's bony shoulders are hunched over, making him look like an awkward scarecrow.

Ironically, that man is me. I am having, what you would call, an out of body experience.

This out of body experience happens regularly. I watch the events play out like a movie-- a movie that I have no control in directing or casting despite being the main lead actor.

I see myself interacting with people, and performing day to day business. I have no control over when it ends or happens. All I know is that when I am not watching myself in a movie, then I am back in my body experiencing extreme boredom and disinterest. I feel as if I don't have enough energy to pay attention to all the things around me. As a result, I simplify my visual field to make people look like blobs that fade into the background. That way I don't have to deal with these walking, talking, annoying, unpleasant creatures known as the homo sapien.

Now, I see the 27 year old male lead actor sitting in his first session of therapy. His name is Ren Jia, and he came to therapy to cease the endless nagging of his grandmother. At first, he ignored his grandmother's suggestion. Her words were only the passing of the wind. However as time went on, the words had turned into a fierce gale that he could no longer ignore. He figured that going to therapy would be less annoying than allowing his grandmother to rid himself of peace and quiet.

Ren Jia, with his expressionless face, looks towards the therapist. The therapist proceeds to ask him a series of questions, attempting to tease out the information from him. However, Ren was like an impeccable fortress, unyielding to the therapist's myriad of questions.

It wasn't because Ren refused to cooperate that made it so difficult for the therapist; in fact for Ren to acknowledge another person to this extent was a rare phenomenon.

Rather, it was because Ren found the situation so annoying that he didn't bother to waste words. Most of Ren's answers were one-word answers. In situations where one word wasn't enough to completely answer the question, Ren kept his sentence under five words max. In this manner, time passed and soon it was time for Ren to leave. As the therapist indicated that the session was over, Ren quickly and abruptly got up and walked out of the door.

He did not bother to say goodbye or exchange pleasantries, and from an outside perspective this was rather rude of him. Fortunately for the therapist, long years of experience has led her to develop a great amount of patience. The numerous unpleasant encounters she had in the past made Ren's behavior look like a polite gesture.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To be honest, the therapist didn't think that her sessions with Ren would continue for more than a month. Considering that it was Ren's grandmother who had forced him to come and that Ren himself didn't seem to be willing to talk to the therapist, the therapist had thought that Ren would try to find a way to get out of this situation.

However, Ren continued coming and was in fact the most punctual patient that she ever had. He always showed up exactly on time; never coming early and certainly never leaving late. The sessions continued for more than half a year, but because of Ren's perfunctory responses, the amount of information the therapist gleaned was the same amount of information she would get from three weeks of therapy with her usual patients.

The therapist was curious, so she finally asked Ren why he still continued to come to the therapy sessions despite his obvious dislike of them.

"Because it is too troublesome," Ren answered."

What is troublesome?" the therapist asked confused.

"To try and change it," Ren answered.

What an odd answer, the therapist said in heart.

From these past seven months she learned that Ren lived alone in a small, cheap, rented apartment. Every couple of days, his grandmother would come visit him bringing food. She would always worry that he wasn't eating right. He did not have any close friends, and his grandmother was the only relative he acknowledged. He worked every day from nine to five stocking shelves in the back of the local grocery store. His pay was minimum wage and it did not have many benefits.

However, when asked if he wanted a better job, Ren answered no. When asked if he was satisfied with his current job, Ren also answered no.

He was also asked what his dream job would be, and to that he answered, "to not work."

In addition, Ren also said that he did not have any hobbies or interests. When he was not working, he seldom left his apartment.

The therapist asked what he did during his days off.

Ren answered, "nothing."

The therapist internally contemplated on whether he was exaggerating when he said nothing.

For most people, 'nothing' meant that they were doing nothing of importance. It did not mean that they were literally doing nothing. For example, most people would say that watching tv all day was doing nothing. However, if Ren told her he literally did nothing, she would not doubt that he sat in his apartment and stared at the window all day.

Truth be told, the therapist had a diagnosis in mind after the first couple of interactions.

Despite her suspicions, she did not formally diagnose it because she still did not have enough information.

There were several flags in her mind that supported this diagnosis: Patient experiences lack of desire or enjoyment for close personal relationships, patient always chooses solitary activities, has little or no interest in sex with other people, experiences little pleasure from activities, has no close friends other than immediate family (grandmother), patient is indifferent to criticism or praise, has emotional detachment and lack of emotional expression.

In fact, these symptoms were more than enough for her to already diagnose Ren.

But the therapist felt that something was missing, and was reluctant to put a label on him.

Today, she decided she wanted to do a little digging into his childhood. If Ren had what she really thought he had, then she must confirm that Ren always had this cold and distant personality since he was young. So she asked him about his family. She learned that Ren was an only child, that his mother died during labor, and that he lived with his father. This concerned her because she knew that it was difficult for a single parent to raise a child. Surely Ren must've also experienced difficulties when growing up?

"Can you tell me what your relationship with your father was like?" the therapist's soft, gentle voice rang out.

She looked at the young man in front of her, expecting his usual short and concise answer.

However, silence immersed the room. "Ren?" she called out to him.

Then she saw something she had never seen before. His usual stone, cold face moved very slightly. The movement was so subtle that it would have been impossible to detect if it wasn't for the fact that Ren Jia's face was like a statue.

Statues don't move, and if they do, even the smallest of movements would be alarming.

This is what the therapist was feeling right now, alarm.

She witnessed a phenomenal event: Ren Jia's face forming a slight frown.

The frown disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, and Ren's usual blank expression took over.

"I don't remember," Ren answered in a flat voice.

He doesn't remember?

Is it because he doesn't care to remember or because of something else?

Ren's personality was the type to forget a person as soon as he met them.

This often happened with the therapist despite meeting with her regularly. It wasn't because Ren had memory problems, rather it was because Ren did not put in any effort in trying to get to know people.

But could it also happen with his father who was his own family? Afterall, isn't Ren close to his grandmother?

Wait, Ren might not even be close to his grandmother. Perhaps he sees his grandmother as the uninvited guest who comes to his apartment weekly to bother him and bring him food.

What exactly is his relationship with his grandmother?

The therapist made a mental note to talk with his grandmother if she ever gets a chance. The rest of the session went on like it usually did. Ren did not reveal anything in his short answers, neither did he show any expression.

This made the therapist ask if she had imagined that frown on his face earlier. In the end, the therapist could not confirm if he had always been this cold and aloof since the beginning. It was better to ask a family member. Soon the session ended with the feeling that not much progress had been made.

However, the therapist was left wondering.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Strange, these days I haven't been having out of body experiences.

I wonder why?

But as soon as my brain formulated the question, it trashed it. It takes too much work to answer questions like these.

Might as well not even try.

Perhaps I should count myself lucky that it wasn't happening, or perhaps not. Either way, I had no opinion of the matter. It was currently after five, and I was leaving work.

My apartment is a twenty minute walk from the grocery store. On evenings like this, when my legs hurt from standing all day, I wonder if it would be better if I got a car. But getting a car meant saving, planning, and bargaining. It was more work than walking twenty minutes each day, so until today I still haven't bought a car. Not to mention I don't even know how to drive. Another obstacle blocking my path to the comfort of a car.

As I walked toward the dilapidated brick building that was my apartment, a blob walked past me.

At first I didn't think much of it, but when my eyes briefly passed over it, it had a face.

A very familiar face. The middle aged man had dark, tan skin. His face was timeworn and wrinkled. His defined jawline had gray stubble all over.

Briefly, very briefly, I saw him.

But the man did not have the cold, black bloodshot eyes, or bushy brows that were always knit into an angry V shape.

It was not him.

My heart, which had started violently beating without my notice, relaxed and slowed itself down.

I looked at the blob again. It was just a blob, a stranger who was passing by. A stranger who had a very similar face to him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I met your grandma the other day, Ren," the therapist said to me.

To me my grandmother was a source of food, nothing else. I didn't know what she wanted from my grandma, but I didn't care. Perhaps the therapist also wanted food?

"Your grandma told me something interesting about your past. She told me that her daughter had eloped with a man years ago, never contacting home. She only learned about the death of her daughter 15 years ago, and that her daughter had left behind a son. By the time she was able to contact her daughter's ex lover, it was already too late, because her grandson ran away from home at the age of 12. Her grandson was homeless for the next 5 years, and was found sleeping on a park bench by a police officer. The boy refused to go home to his father. Fortunately, social services were able to reunite the grandmother and grandson, and the grandmother has been watching over her grandson this whole time."

"That boy was you, Ren," the therapist looked at me, as if she was expecting some reaction from me.

But to me, the whole story seemed like someone else's story, and I had no sympathy for them. The story was boring and uninteresting, and didn't even have a good plot. It did not amuse me at all. I could not relate to the person who was in the story, and wondered why she had told it to me. She asked me why I ran away from home, whether or not my dad was a bad man, and what happened in those 5 years I was homeless. I answered simply, I don't remember. Perhaps my dad was a bad man and that's why I ran away from home. I couldn't recall anything before the time I ran away. But I really didn't care. Perhaps I don't remember because I had put in no effort in trying to remember it. But I didn't feel that I should put energy in trying to remember the past just because she asked me to. She seemed very frustrated at not being able to get any information from me. But what did that matter to me?

That night, I had a very strange dream. A child was being dragged away by a large, angry man. Thump, thump, thump. The child's small body hit the steps of the stairs, one by one. The child had initially fought back, clawing, and scratching the monster who had a firm grip on his arm. But when the child fought back, a heavy blow was delivered to the child's frail frame. Then the child's body grew limp, and the monster dragged him down into the basement. From the basement, loud noises could be heard. The sounds of screams, shattering glass, and broken things drifted from the basement. It hurts. It hurts so much. Please someone, anyone, make him stop. Please, save me. The child's whispered pleas were unheard. When the child realized that nobody was going to save him, he wished for at least the pain to go away. If the pain would go away, he would stop caring about what happened to him. If someone granted him that wish and made the pain go away, he wouldn't ask for anything more. Perhaps someone heard him and granted his wish, because ever since that day, he could no longer feel the pain. He could no longer feel pain, suffering, anger, or resentment. Nor could he feel joy, happiness, or love.

Ren Jia woke up in a sweat. He swore that last night he had a strange dream, but he could not recall anything from that dream. He quickly dismissed it and got out of bed. His day was uneventful and normal, and each day after that it was the same. However, on the day that he was to see his therapist, Ren Jia suddenly didn't want to go. Ren didn't know why he didn't want to go, but he felt that if he didn't want to go, then he shouldn't have to. So that day, Ren Jia didn't go to therapy.

For four weeks, the therapist did not see her patient. This caused a great deal of anxiety in her because Ren Jia had not missed a single session since he started. She kept thinking that she made the mistake of talking about the past to him. Perhaps she should've slowly gone over his past, instead of abruptly shoving his history in his face. The therapist had called his number several times, but he did not answer. When the therapist called his grandmother, the grandmother said that he was doing just fine, except that he refused to go to therapy. This was the first time Ren had strongly insisted on something, so the grandmother was rather surprised. Because of this, Ren's grandmother did not force him to go. The therapist had no choice but to settle with this decision, but in her heart she couldn't stop worrying. There was definitely something wrong, and she wanted to help Ren.

------------------------------------------

The next time the therapist saw Ren Jia, he was sitting in her office crying uncontrollably. It was the first time she saw him displaying any kind of emotion. Ren Jia had been discharged from the hospital three days ago. He was brought there after his grandmother discovered him on the floor of his apartment. It was a suicide attempt. Following hospitalization, Ren Jia was sent back to her office for treatment. This time, however, the silent Ren Jia was like a dam that had been breached. Words flowed out his mouth like a raging river. He remembered, he said. A week ago, his memories came back to him and he suddenly felt as if he wanted to die. It was heartbreaking for the therapist. For a man to not feel any emotions for 20 years and all of a sudden the first thing he felt was the strong urge to kill himself was the most heart wrenching thing in the world. She could not help feeling sad for Ren, and tears started to flow down her face too. The therapist gave him a hug and reassured him.

"I'll be there to help you. This time you are not alone," she whispered in his ear. Ren lifted his head to look at her hazel eyes brimmed with tears. His sobs stopped and he opened his mouth to speak. "What's your name?" he asked. The therapist looked confused, "my name?" For the first time in his life, Ren felt a warm feeling in his heart. He could not identify what the feeling was, but he felt it when the therapist had given him a hug and told him that he was not alone. It was the first time he felt another human being care for him. He felt that he had been lifted from the darkness that constantly threatened to swallow him. The woman in front of him had gifted this feeling to him, and he wanted to know the name of his saviour. "Yes, what is your name? I want to know," he again asked. The therapist looked at him with a puzzled look, but answered, "Hope." Ren Jia then flashed the most dazzling smile. "Thank you, Hope," he said.