#cdevelopment

moodboard #1: youtube (MARKIPLIER × cellbits × jacksepticeye)

                I shouldn't have come here, he thought. As he sank into the large, grey microfiber couch, he began to scan the room. The walls were all white and on them hung a Columbia University degree. Show off. His eyes met a mahogany desk directly in front of him and there stood a moderate stack of papers and a picture frame of a woman with two kids. Behind it was a Caucasian man looking down at a paper that was in his hands. I really need a cigare-,

                "Cameron Dare?" the man's silver eyes were now studying Cameron. Cameron broke the eye contact for a while before finally nodding. The man got up from his desk, and made his way over toward Cameron. Once, he was in front of him he flashed a smile, "I'm Dr. Reed," he started, lending his hand out toward Cameron, "but you could just call me Oliver." he finished, trying to build rapport between them as quickly as possible. Cameron shook Oliver's hand without getting up. "Have you ever had any form of cognitive-behavioral therapy before?"

                "No." Cameron answered, shifting uncomfortably in the sofa.

                "Good!" Oliver stated noticing Cameron's discomfort. He turned away and came back seconds later with a black faux leather rolling chair and took a seat in front of him. "Well, you've come to the right place."

                "It wasn't my decision, Doc, my father is kind of forcing me?" Cameron corrected him.

                "Kind of?" Oliver remarked. Cameron rolled his eyes in response and was about to get up to leave, but as soon as he dug his fists into the grey microfiber, Oliver addressed the situation, "Your father seems to be concerned with your fixation on fire." As he stopped flipping through the papers in front of him, his short brown hair moved up with his face as he looked at Cameron. He crossed his right leg over his left and supported his left arm on the arm rest with his hand on his chin and his index finger laying right next to his eye.

                "My father doesn't care about anyone but himself." Cameron protested, his fists lightening their tension on the couch.

                "Interesting," Oliver asserted. "Is that why you set his bed on fire?"

                Looking down, Cameron let out a smirk. Oliver immediately noted this and got out of his current position and leaned in, shoulders on his legs and his hands intertwined in front of his lips looking at Cameron; he didn't expect that response. "He deserved it." Cameron assured him as he looked up to face Oliver still bearing his grin.

                "Was this the first time you found pleasure in setting a fire?" Oliver asked, observing Cameron's expressions and body language.

                Feeling uneasy, Cameron broke eye contact, and leaned back on the sofa and shook his head. "Are you going to arrest me, Doc?"

                Oliver discreetly mimicked Cameron and leaned back onto the backrest of his chair and let out a full smile. "No Cameron, you have therapist- patient confidentiality, although there are some exceptions in confidentiality, such as if a therapist considers you a danger to yourself or to others, they can take initiative if they choose to. But you can trust me when I say I've never gone to that extent or plan to. To me, that is the easy way out of doing a job correctly and throwing your problem into someone else's hands because the therapist was too inadequate to handle the client themselves." Oliver reassured him, leaning in again. "Don't feel like you ever need to hold back. The only people in this room are you and me." Still uncomfortable, Cameron shifted in his seat, crossing his arms. "Now, was that the last time you set a fire for the purpose of revenge?"

                Cameron shifted his attention back to Oliver, analyzing him. His composure and the way he carried himself led him to believe that he could confide in him. He locked eyes with him again and after a brief moment of silence, "I burned down my high school," he divulged, his senses heightened as the words left his mouth, examining everything the man was going to do next.

                Oliver's eye brows shifted upward, but besides that, he maintained his composure "This is good, go on," he insisted, noticing the silence that followed that sentence.

                Cameron tilted his head, surprised by Oliver's reaction. "But, it wasn't for revenge." He suggested.

                "Then why did you do it?"

                "Anger."

                "Anger towards what?"

                "Everything."

                "I see, can you tell me the whole story?" Oliver inquired.

                "This is stupid, doc." Cameron snarled, upset and pushing himself up from the couch, he began to pace back and forth. "I tell you I burned down my school and you just say 'this is good, tell me more', it's fucking ridiculous. Mind you, barely anyone knows about this and you just act like it's normal? What the hell is the point of this anyway?"

                Still calm and relaxed, Oliver began, "Yes, Cameron, this is good because you are opening up and the first step towards recovery is to establish trust between each other. Now, please take a breath, relax, sit down, and let's continue."

                Calming down, Cameron exhaled and nodded. He took a seat on the couch and began to describe the day in as much detail as  he could recall.

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                  As he sat at his desk, Cameron's thumb laid on the ply wood, while he dropped his fingers left to right in a rhythmic motion repeatedly. He stared at the clock, it's hour and minute hand read 12:27pm and then turned his head to the wall beside him, above him was a calendar that read: February 9, 2011.

                "Hey, Cameron, I'm so sorry.." The kid behind him leaned in to whisper, but Cameron ignored him, annoyed. Sorry never meant anything, it didn't help, it didn't change things, it was only a constant reminder. The teacher had finished his lecture and the chatter of the students took over the classroom:

                "The bells about to ring-"

                "Maybe we should ditch fourth period-"

                "I never liked her anyways-"

                "Does anyone else smell gasoline?"

                "Can you play with my hair?"

                "Ashley was supposed to be watching the door.."

                "I'm wearing the sexiest underwear, want to see?"

                "I hope he's doing okay."

                Cameron didn't contribute to any of the noise. All he felt was anger, hatred, betrayal, like his world was crashing down on him and there was nothing he could do.

                The bell rang.

                Cameron stayed seated and waited for most of the class to flush out before he got up, grabbed his backpack, his water bottle and walked towards the door.

                "Cameron, would you like to talk?" the teacher proposed.

                "No." Cameron announced, looking back at the teacher briefly then leaving the classroom. As he made his way down the hallway, he felt everybody's gaze burning into him; he knew they were talking about him and like a bench with a name inscribed into it, he found his school turning from a playground to a mausoleum and he couldn't handle two more years of this bullshit. He grabbed the handle of his backpack tightly and walked into his favorite stairwell, the only one that didn't have a fire alarm and was right next to an emergency exit, and lit a cigarette.

                The bell rang, marking the start of fourth period and the end of his cigarette break. He looked down at the water bottle in his hand and shook it a bit. Putting out his cigarette, he walked through the now empty hallway, until he reached a door labeled "BOILER ROOM". Cautiously, he looked around before entering and once he was inside, he leaned his back against the door and slide down it until his knees were at his chest. He wasn't sad anymore, just aggravated. Although he was the talk of the school, it wasn't the type of attention he was looking for; this isn't what he wanted to be remembered as. He didn't have a doubt in his mind as to why he needed to do this and within seconds, he was fully focused. He stood up and uncapped his water bottle, letting the strong smell of gasoline escape from the bottle.  He climbed the staircase to the second level where he was right above the dome and found the water inlet that lead to the distributor. He poured half of the contents of the bottle into the boiler. It was only a matter of time now. He ran down the staircase and ran up to the inspection doors and forced them open, trailing gasoline from the front of the doors behind him to the entrance of the boiler room and trailed the remaining gasoline into the hallway. He slammed the door shut and sprinted for the stairwell.

                BOOM!

                The explosion was louder than he expected it to be and the fire alarms were already going off. This was the first time that sleeping around ever did him any good, Thank you, Mrs. Wells. He made his way to his smoking spot and stared at the emergency exit. He smirked, and pushed the door open and made a run for it. Turning back as soon as he reached a nearby tree, he marveled at the sight and could already see the second floor catching fire. He wished he could stay and watch his work unfold but he knew he had to get as far away from there as possible.

_________________________________________________________

                  "Immense feelings of pleasure and relief during the act." Oliver speculated, scribbling down notes on his clipboard. "Did you feel guilt, shame or any type of embarrassment once the episode was over?"

                "No." Cameron confessed, staring at the floor, his mind still back in his sophomore year.

                "That's odd. Seeing as your urges to set fire don't stem from substance abuse. You definitely suffer from pyromania, but I'm more interested in what caused this particular behavior." Oliver announced as he continued writing. "What made you burn down the school?" Oliver insisted after a brief pause. When Cameron didn't respond, Oliver looked up from his clipboard to find that Cameron was just sitting there staring at the floor, his expression blank. "Cameron?"

                "I have to go, Doc. I think our time is up anyways." Cameron stated almost immediately, looking up at the man's silver eyes.

26: Suppose you see your ex kissing another person, what would you do?

……………………………..nothing. There wouldn’t be anything for me to do, because I wouldn’t have the right to interfere with that nature of his life anymore..something like that, I guess.

42: Do you believe that everyone has a soulmate? 

Sort of. I know that everyone is under the impression that a soulmate is someone you fall in love with, date, get married, and die with, but honestly that’s not it. A soulmate is more of a person you are so closely associated with, and to, that your mind is one and the same, and your soulmate is supposed to come into your life, wreck havoc on everything that ever mattered to you, brutally destroy everything you’ve ever considered precious — then, build something beautiful on the residue of broken memories with you, and soon — vanish, like a puff of smoke that never existed. I don’t think soulmates are lifelong people.

46: How many kids do you want to have?