WHAT WILL I DO WITH MY ROOMMATE

      Faith was sitting in her office, leaning against her seat and feeling sorry for herself that she didn't realize when it was time for her next therapy section. Her assistant called her and told her that her three o'clock appointment was there. Faith didn't know if she was ready to counsel anyone at that moment, since it seemed she too needed counselling herself, but it was her job and she needed to do it. 

      She told her assistant to send in the person and she picked up her pen and jotter. She realized that her ink was no longer flowing, she opened the drawer and bent to pick a pen, she picked it and the pen fell on the floor and she bent to pick it. The person knocked on her door and she screamed for the person to enter while trying to reach the pen on the floor. 

      "Please sit," she said to the person and she finally grabbed the pen. "I'm sorry, I had to pic…" she started saying but her words trailed off when she saw who it was. 

      Ethan stood there smirking. Her face looked like she had just seen a ghost. 

       "What are you doing here?" 

   Ethan sat down. "Is that the first question you ask your clients?" 

        Faith didn't have time for pranks. She dialled her assistant. "Hello, please send in Mr Will Johnson." 

         "I have sent him in, he should be in your office." 

       Faith dropped the phone. Is this some sort of joke or what? Was she hallucinating? She shut her eyes severally to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. When Ethan still sat down there, that evil smirk on his face. She realize that it was reality glaring her in the face. She left her desk, took in a deep breath and went over to where she usually sat for sessions. 

       She stared at him for a while and he stared back. She finally broke the silence. "What do you want?" 

       "You ran away in the morning." 

        "Is that what you want?" 

        "I wasn't even done talking. I wanted us to talk but you ran away, lying that you had clients and that you are running late." 

         "What do you need advice for?" Faith asked, glad that her voice was stone-cold firm. 

         "I need you to tell me what I could do with my roommate." 

     Faith sighed. "What do you want? Is this why you paid to come here?" 

        "My roommate seems to hate me so much for no just cause." 

       "If you don't have anything to say, you can leave, I'll refund your money." 

       "She is always treating me cold even when I am nice to her. I don't know what I did to her and do you know the worst part of it all? It's that instead of her to talk to me about any problems, she prefers to drink herself to death, psychiatrist is that life?"

       "I'm not a psychiatrist, I am a psychologist!" Faith said through gritted teeth. 

       "My bad. But can you tell me what to do with my roommate?" 

       Faith leaned forward and looked him in the eyes. "Did your roommate ever ask you to stay away from her business? Then do it."