Page 190 of Naughty Nelle

Elz frowns but says nothing.

Sasperilla twirls around to show herself off. Her frilly pink frock does little for her other than to expose the beveled edges of her rib cage.

Hook gives her the once-over. “Babe, you should put some meat on those bones.”

Sasperilla turns as pink as her dress and stomps off. I’m grateful for Hook’s brutal honesty despite how much I despise him.

“So, Jane—” he says, moving closer to me.

I cut him off. “Later. It’s time for morning meditation.”

“I’ll be meditating about you, babe.”

And I’ll be in some other world where he doesn’t exist.

I head over to Shrink’s office for my session after morning meditation.

Reclining in the chaise, I shift restlessly waiting for her to show up. Why do I always have to see bugface right after morning meditation and mess up the rest of my day? I mean, after meditation, I’m always so relaxed and empowered. After Shrink, I’m always so stressed and damaged. It’s not fair. I’m going to ask for a schedule change. I’ve been here long enough. Four forever days. I deserve it.

“Today, Jane, we’re going to play a little game,” says Shrink as she finally flits into her office.

Big whoop.

“Did you ever play any games as a child?”

Only one game comes to mind. When my mother was out with her latest male conquest, I would sneak into her room and dress up in one of her pretty gowns. Then, I would stand in front of her treasured mirror and pretend I was a beautiful princess, waiting for my handsome prince to come and take me away. Far away to a magnificent palace in a magical land. Far, far away from my mother.

“I used to play make-believe,” I say, omitting the details of my childhood fantasy.

“Perfect! Because that’s exactly what we’re going to play today. A game of make-believe.”

Ha! This should be fun.

“Jane, if you were an object, what would you be?”

What kind of stupid question is that? I have no clue.

“Jane, I’m waiting for an answer,” Shrink buzzes around the room impatiently.

I survey my surroundings. “This chaise lounge,” I finally blurt out.

“Why did you pick this chaise?”

“It happens to be here, right?”

“No, Jane. There must be a better reason. You could have picked the door, the clock, or your shoes. They’re here too.”

She has a point. Where is she going with this mind game?

Hovering above me, she looks straight into my eyes. “So, Jane, why did you really pick the chaise?”

“Because it reminds me of myself.” Why am I’m saying this? I don’t look like a piece of furniture.

“How so, Jane?” Shrink’s interest is stirred.

I sit up straight and examine the worn out chaise. My eyes take in its elegant lines and graceful curves. It’s actually a shame it’s so tattered.

“Because it’s long and lean like me,” I say.

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