Before I love you (nah, nah, nah)
I’m gonna leave you (nah, nah, nah)
Before I’m someone you leave behind
I’ll break your heart so you don’t break mine

Before I love you (nah, nah, nah)
I’m gonna leave you (nah, nah, nah)
Even if I’m not here to stay
I still want your heart
Your heart for takeaway.

I sat in on the couch and ran my hands over my Jeans and heaved a deep sigh. I have been here a thousand times, yet I still get chills whenever I came. I turned my head and looked at a couple seated on the couch at another end of the room. Soon enough, it would be my turn and I would go through the same routine, I could predict every minute. The secretary would call my name and I’d go through a series of questioning.

I braced myself and rubbed my hands on the couch. Soon enough, as I predicted, my name was called and I walked into the hallway, as I walked through the hallway, I couldn’t help but sigh at the thought of the years I had spent coming here
“Miss Andrews” I heard a familiar voice call, I immediately know it is my therapist’s assistant Mr. Jonathan. “Good morning Uncle Joe-Joe” I respond with a forced smile, “Ready for you session?” he asks, “I guess” I reply, I don’t bother to force a smile this time. He then ushers me in to my counsellor’s office, I began seeing my counsellor since I was ten and had emotional trauma. I was always shy and soft spoken, coupled with the death of my mum, I sank deeper and deeply into myself and became more withdrawn.

My dad had already died when I was six, we were very close and it crushed me. My mum had struggled to give me the best education money could afford and saved up for my college, we were best friends. We shared everything, food, secrets, and help on to each other for hope. Imagine me coming home from school only to hear that my mother was involved in an accident and had died on the spot.
I was immediately taken to my mother’s older sister’s house to stay. She already had three children of her own, two of which were about ten years older than me and were in college at the time I came to stay with them. Her third child Monique was about two years older than me and always tried to talk to me. But soon enough she realized that I wasn’t going to say a word to anyone.

One day her friend came over and she recommended that I went for therapy. She meant it as a joke, but Monique took it serious and followed up with it and yeah, here I am, in the hallway, dragging my feet on the floors I have walked over a hundred times.

The noise from the stereo slowly shakes me from my thoughts and brings me slowly back to reality. I step into my therapist’s office and read what is written in red letters on a bright blue sign, “Everyone is deserving of love, joy and happiness”. I sigh deeply as a tear runs down my cheek. I immediately take out a paper towel and wipe my tears with it.
‘It’s exactly Seven years since mum died’ I say to my therapist Ms. Angels as I sat down.

Published by AderemiChukwu

I love writing, I'm an equalist and a strong promoter of egalitarianism and Feminism. I hope to touch lives and make an impact in this world. I'm the next big thing.❤

4 thoughts on “Takeaway

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