FicWad

“Quit slamming your head on the wall; if you pass out, I’ll be stuck going through this alone!” Bill shouted at Tom, who was currently hitting his head on the painted brick wall inside the psychologist’s office.
“Well, I won’t need to be bored to death if I knock myself out,” Tom replied. He continued with the self-torture.
“Stop it, Tom,” I said, annoyed.
“Why? Keeps me occupied.” I rolled my eyes.
“Claudia Marques?” the psychologist asked from her door. I got up, Bill reluctantly following, wrenching his brother from the wall. When we got into the room (Mom and Dad were waiting outside), the four of us sat down.
“This room feels like a dungeon....” Tom announced, looking around.
“Yeah, a bit,” I agreed. Bill just nodded. The doctor-lady cleared her throat.
“Hello, Claudia. I’m Dr. Finelle, but if you choose you can just call me Dr. F,” she said. “So, your parents say that you have a habit of.... talking to yourself?”
“I don’t talk to myself. I chat with my friends.”
“Yet no one’s ever there?”
“They are there, in my head.”
“Uh huh....” Dr. Finelle just wrote a few notes on her clipboard. “How many of them are there?”
“Four.”
“What are their names? How old are they?”
“Well, the twins, Bill and Tom, are fifteen.” She nodded, writing. “Gustav is sixteen, and Georg is seventeen.”
“So they’re around your age?”
“Yeah, I don’t want friends who are half or twice my age!”
“Are any of them here right now?” I nodded. “Who?”
“The twins.”
“Okay. What do they look like?” I thought about it for a minute. “Do you want to sketch their pictures?”
“Yeah, that’ll be easier.” Dr. Finelle handed me a pad of paper and a pencil, so I began sketching. After about twenty minutes, and half the eraser plus a few re-sharpenings of the pencil, I finished the portraits. They looked good in my opinion. Showing them to the therapist, I waited for her response. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see the twins peering at the papers.
“This is very realistic, Claudia. So which is which?”
“Bill is the one looking forward, and Tom is the one looking at the side.” She studied both for a minute.
“Very detailed. What’s this around Bill’s eyes?” She pointed at the corner of one of his eyes on the paper.
“Eyeliner. He likes to use it.”
“Eyeliner? I see....” It was silent. “What are some of the twins’ hobbies?” I had to think.
“Um.... Bill likes to sing bits of songs-”
“Does he write them?”
“Yeah. But I don’t understand any of them.”
“Why?”
“They’re all in German. That’s where the four are from. Magdeburg, Germany.”
“Germany....?”
“Yep. I can’t understand most of the stuff they say, but they taught me a few words and phrases.” She didn’t say anything, just scribbled. “Okay, so Bill likes to sing. He also has a habit of annoying me.”
“Annoying you? Okay.” More scribbling.
“Tom plays guitar. He’s really good at it! He also likes to annoy me and the other three.”
“I see.” More awkward silence. “How long have you had these friends?”
“A year or two.”
“Do you have any real friends?” I shook my head. “None at all? Did you ever?”
“When I was about ten or something.”
“So you’ve been pretty lonely, then. Have you tried making friends?”
“Not really. Everyone sees me as the weirdo or the loner.”
“Why do they think that?”
“Because I’m not like them. The girls are too girly; they wear skirts that might as well be a piece of thread, tops that are more like bras, and too much pink.” I shivered; that type of girl scares me.
“Hm.” She wrote more stuff down, then looked at the clock. “Well, our time’s up. I’ll schedule another meeting with your parents.” The four of us (to her, two) got up and walked out.
“I hate that woman already!” Tom shouted.
“You’re not the only one, Tom. I do, and I’m pretty sure your brother does,” I retorted.
“She’s too nosy. Why the fuck would she ask about hobbies?” Bill agreed.
“Who knows but her?” Mom and Dad were talking with Dr. Finelle, so the twins and I sat on the couch. “No killing yourself, Tom.” He glared at me, pissed off.
“If you drag me here ever again, I’ll kill you.”
“Of course you will.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“It was that bad?” Georg asked Bill.
“Ja, she looked like a cannibal who hadn’t eaten in a month!” Bill exaggerated. I rolled my eyes. Tom and Gustav were talking in the other room. “I swear, she seemed ready to eat the three of us!”
“Yikes, are you sure?”
“Yes!”
“Bill, quit exaggerating. It wasn’t that bad,” I scolded.
“It was still bad!”
“Well, yeah, but not life-threatening horrible.”
“Liar, you hated it. Tell the truth- how glad were you to get away from her?” I thought for a few seconds.
“Extremely.”
“I knew it. How much did you hate that lady?”
“Wish she would die. But she wasn’t terrifying.”
“You still hated her.”
“Okay, you got me. Whoo-hoo, Bill Kaulitz wins!” I cheered sarcastically.
“Yay, I won!” The three of us in the room laughed at Bill’s happiness at winning nothing.
“Claudia, dinner!” my mom shouted.
“C’mon, you two. Food time!”
“But we can’t eat....”
“Too bad. I’m hungry.”

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Thanks to the few readers.

~"Bill sketch":http://stars-portraits.com/en/portrait-16752.php?origin=member
~"Tom sketch":http://stars-portraits.com/en/portrait-15278.php?origin=member