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I have been a school counselor for about ten years, I'm forty-two
years old. Shoulder-length red hair and green eyes. I'm 4'8", 110
pounds with a fairly good figure.
I've had a variety of different cases come into my office. But none
as...unique...as my latest case.
Her name was Lindsay, a very pretty ten-year-old with long black hair
and hazel eyes. She's about four feet even but is very shy. It took me
about a month to break the surface and get her to open up to me a
little. You see, she had barely passing grades and her focus in class
was always drifting into daydreams.
Her math teacher brought her to my attention after she caught Lindsay
staring out the window several times during tests.
As Lindsay sat in a chair in front of my desk, head lowered, hands
clasped loosely in her lap and her feet swung absent-mindedly back and
forth. Her bright yellow, flower dress resting just below her knees.
She wore matching colored ankle socks and white, Velcro sneakers, her
hair was in twin ponytails on either side of her head which reminded
me of Cindy Brady from 'The Brady Bunch' TV show.
"So, Lindsay," I began, setting aside her file and resting my chin on
my joined hands and smiling at her. "Do you think you can trust me
enough to tell me what's got you so distracted in class?"
She slowly shook her head 'no', nibbling on her bottom lip in
thought. Then, she sighed, closed her eyes and in a soft voice (which
was almost a whisper, just barely louder), she stopped moving and
briefly looked up at me.
"I love my mommy," she said.
"Why, of course you do, sweetie," I assured her, matter-of-factly.
"We all love our parents."
She sighed more loudly, frustrated.
"You don't understand, Ms. Jensen," she continued. "I love my mommy...a
lot!"
I raised an eyebrow at the emphasis on the words 'a lot'. That's when
I noticed that her pale skin was now a bright crimson and it looked
like she was on the verge of biting her bottom lip completely off.
"What do you mean, dear?"
"Nevermind," she grunted, getting more frustrated.
"You know that everything you say in here, to me, is our secret and I
would never tell anyone. That's part of my job." I tried to reassure her.
The silence was almost deafening as we sat there, me watching her
while she looked back to the floor. I decided to try a different approach.
"What do you feel when you think of your mommy?" I asked softly,
waiting for more silence to follow.
I was not prepared for her response as she took a deep breath and her
eyes seemed to take on a dreamy glaze.
"I feel...um...butterflies in my tummy and I get kinda itchy...down there,"
she said as she pointed to between her legs. Her face became a deeper,
darker shade of red and that's when I knew just what she meant.
"You mean...like a mommy and daddy love each other?" I gasped softly,
not exactly knowing if she quite knew what sex was.
"Uh-huh!" she almost giggled, as she began to fidget and rub her
thighs together. It seemed she was fighting the urge to push her
clasped hands harder into her lap.
"Does she know, dear?" I almost whispered.
"NO!" Lindsay blurted out a little louder than she had intended, then
in a softer voice, she added. "I can't tell her."
"Why not, Lindsay?" I asked.
"I'm just a little girl," she whispered. "Mommy only likes big girls."
With that, she clasped her hands over her face and began to whimper.
I got up from my chair and walked around my desk, took Lindsay into
my arms and held her until her tears slowly ended.
"It's alright, sweetie," I soothed. "Would it help if I had a talk
with her?"
Lindsay pushed away from me as if hit by an electrical shock, a
terrified look on her face.
"But...you said...you wouldn't tell, Ms. Jensen," she was almost in tears
again, this time in fear.
"I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to, hon. I was only asking
to see if you wanted me to," I assured her. "But something has to give
or it'll keep eating you up inside. I know, I've felt the same way
quite a few times in my life."
Lindsay calmed down and she smiled softly.
"You...you would...talk to her?" she replied, almost relieved. "What
would you say? Would I get into trouble?"
"If that is what you want, hon," I replied with a soft smile. "And,
no. You won't get into trouble. As for what I would say, I'm not sure,
but I will think of something."
When Lindsay left my office, she was skipping and her joyous feelings
seemed to spread throughout the hall and out the door where her mother
was waiting for her. She always picked Lindsay up and drop her
off...every day.
I walked out to the car trailing a short distance behind Lindsay.
When Lindsay realized I was following her as she got into the car, her
fear began to rise. But, when she saw me wink at her, she knew
everything was going to be alright.
I got to the car and I squatted down on Lindsay's side and put my
arms up on the open window frame, resting my chin on my arms, smiling.
"Hello, Ms. Stevens," I greeted. "I'm Ms. Jensen, the school
counselor. I've been working with your daughter on some issues and I
would like to ask if you have some time to discuss her treatment plan?"
"Of course, Ms. Jensen. Nice to meet you," She replied, stretching
out a hand to me, which I took and shook it lightly.
"When would be a good time for you?" I asked, being very professional
about my inquiry.
I noticed Lindsay watching me out of the corner of my eye, but I
maintained my professionalism.
"Well, I can't right now," she told me as she looked at her watch. "I
have a babysitter..."
"I'm NOT a baby," Lindsay interjected sternly, crossing her arms in
front of her chest and 'humphing'.
"Of course, you aren't, sweetie," her mother replied with a hint of a
giggle. "But you're not old enough to stay home at night by yourself."
The she turned back to me and continued.
"I'm going out with some friends for a bit and I can't cancel."
"You mean 'HER'," Lindsay piped in grumpily.
"LINDSAY JEAN!" Ms. Stevens gasped out loud, turning the same shade
of crimson I has seen in Lindsay not fifteen minutes ago.
"It's OK, Ms. Steven," I assured her with a wink and a smile. "You're
not alone."
Ms. Stevens looked at me with her eyes wide and her mouth nearly in
her lap. Then she smiled and took a deep breath.
"Please, call me Linda," she told me.
"Here we go again," Lindsay muttered.
"Lindsay, that's quite enough. I swear, I don't know what's got into
you lately."
"I'm Sarah. Nice to meet you, Linda."
I just smiled and winked at Lindsay, letting her know everything
would be OK.
"How about after school tomorrow?" I asked.
Linda, by this time, was chewing on her bottom lip, 'Like mother,
like daughter,' I thought to myself.
"Are you doing anything tonight?" she asked, shooting a defiant look
at Lindsay, daring her to say something about her invite to me.
"Not really. Was just going to curl up with a good book before bed."
"I'll pick you up at nine. What's your address?"
After writing down my address and phone number for Linda, I stood up
and watched her and Lindsay pull away, Lindsay was looking out the
window at me, but she was too far away to judge her expression. I made
my way to my car and headed home too.
-- added by MAS, September 5 2010
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