Category : Stories

Sub Category : Comedy

"We're worried about you, sweetie," Mom said, her voice wobbling with uncertainty. "We think you've gone crazy."

"We?" I echoed. 

"Your father and I," she explained. "We've talked things through, and although you hate the idea, I think it's best for you. Your father is right. This is going a little too far." She held my hand and offered a small squeeze. "You need a therapist, darling."

I frowned. "I didn't think you, of all people, would turn against me."

"I'm not turning against you," she said. "I'm doing what I think is best for you."

"You're repeating yourself," I noticed.

"Because I truly mean it."

"Hmm."

"I really do," she insisted.

"I believe you." I snatched my hand away from hers. "I saw this coming anyway."

"I guess everyone saw this coming, hun," she said with a small smile.

"Did they see this in their dreams too?" I asked, even though I knew the answer to that already.

She stared at me carefully. "You know I love you, darling, but sometimes you let your imaginations run wild. No one can see the future. That's just impossible."

"Right." I sighed. It's pointless going on and on about it. Trust me, I've tried to convince them, but I ended up looking like a bigger fool. 

"Who's my therapist?" I asked in curiosity.

"Um, well, we haven't really made arrangements yet," she said, slightly startled. "I wanted your consent first."

My eyes looked past her and settled onto the black-striped, orange creature behind her. It had a long body, a short neck and stout legs curled against its body. 

A tiger was sleeping peacefully on the carpet.

I laughed quietly. "I think I need a therapist too."