The clock on the wall ticks the minutes. I sit in the therapist's office as she's trying to study me but my eyes remain on the clock. Waiting to get out of here. I have not said a word to her while she's been trying to speak to me. Tell me that talking about it will make things better but I don't respond. This is my fourth session with her and I have a feeling that she's getting tired of me by how she's constantly moving her feet and tapping her pen against the blank paper that she has on a clipboard.

She had not written anything and everything that she does she crosses over it. I don't know her name nor do I find that I should know it as I'm for more interested in the clock that hangs over the door. Only half an hour until I'm free to walk out of here. The only room that I go into beside the room that I am supposed to stay in at this hospital. The three minutes that I have out of her office and away from the hospital bed are what I cherish the most as I find that freedom returns, even if only for three minutes.

"I suggest we try something different" Her voice rings through the office but my eyes don't look at her. She's always coming up with some ideas that I don't want to know or listen to. "Tell me in one word what you need to make you feel better. It can be anything in the world. Your favorite pillow or book. I will get it for you" She speaks and then I find myself looking at her. The small smirk on her face as she's got my attention and I begin to think about her words and what I need.

In truth there is one thing that comes to mind. Or rather one person. The one that has been possessing my thoughts for a long time and I'm glad that he does it. "Steel" I speak, only one word and that is all that I need to say. He is the only one that can make me feel better, and he's the only that can make the light shine again. I need him more than I have ever needed anyone else in my life or anything. I need him more than I need oxygen.

She is stunned by the word that I hand said but I'm not sure which she is more shocked about whether I had spoken the first word in four sessions that I have been with her or that I had said his name. She knows my story and I'm sure she has been ordered to brainwash me to not think about him or something like that. I know they don't want me to see him but what they don't know is that I have seen him. Outside the window I once caught a glimpse of him standing there and watching me.

"All right" She speaks and then writes something down. "I will do everything that I can to let him see you" She tells me and I give her a confused look. "Why would you do that?" I ask her, and she gives me a warm smile and perhaps I was wrong about her. She has a sweet face and her smile is so calm and nice which is not something that I'm used to getting these days. She lets out a small chuckle as she cocks her head to the side and studies me before she opens her mouth to speak.

"I know men like your father. I've lived with one. Think they can control everything and everyone around them. Silence women and take away their happiness. He has bodyguards around you to keep you under control but not to protect you. I know how this feels and like a true woman I'm saying no. I won't let him control you like this. You're not underage and you're not under his care. You are your own person, and he's taken advantage of your state" She tells me and for the first time since I met her (which isn't that long ago) I find that I have respect for her.

I'm shocked that she would say this but why do have the urge to clap? I don't do it but I want to. I just stare at her. When I go over what my father has been doing I don't know if she's correct. He has been inside the room sometimes all day with me, working. As if I weren't even there. I don't talk to him but if I do, what would he do? In my childhood I used to remember that interrupting him when he was working was a big no no.

"How would you help me?" I ask her. Everything that we talk about no can know about and I feel grateful for that and I know that my father nor anyone else will ever know what took place here today or any day. "I might not be able to do much but I think that I can bring him in here while we have our sessions but I still have to have something. I need to ask this; if he is here beside you, will you open up and talk to me or even him?" She asks me.

The answer is really simple and yet it's more complicated than it has to be. Letting out everything will make the reality that I still live be reality for everyone else, and he will know, and she will know. But worst of all, I will have to relive it all over again and I don't think I can do that. At the same time I need him to hold me and I need him here, and he deserves to know about everything since he saved me. My mind has been made up. "Yes" I answer her.