Flash Fiction Fri- Saturday – The Session

Last night I was way too tired for my flash fiction, so I kept it for today. Recently I’ve been watching The Flash and it got me thinking it’d be fun to write a book, or even a comic, about a prison for people with superpowers where there was actually some attempt at rehabilitation. I decided to nibble at the idea with this piece:

The Session

“So…” Dr. Weaver said, putting the little tape-recorder down on the table by her chair. “How have you been since our last session?”
Victoria shrugged vaguely. “Okay, I guess…” she said. “I mean, same as usual. Food’s been better lately.” She smiled with one side of her mouth.
“That’s good to hear.” The returned smile was polite, but she was privately relieved. Maybe management had finally listened to her. “Have you been doing your exercises?”
She nodded. “Every day,” she said, and then caught herself and shook her head. “No, almost. Not Thursday. But every other day.”
“Good. Has it been going well?”
“I think so. At first I wasn’t really sure it made a difference but… yeah, I think it is now. I wish it’d be faster, but…” She shrugged.
“Well, some progress is better than no progress,” Dr. Weaver replied. She adjusted her glasses, and prepared to move on to the topic she wanted to focus on this session. “I thought we’d talk a little bit today about your accident.”
Victoria visibly stiffened. “I… I’d rather not.”
“I recognize that, Victoria, but I want to remind you that if you want to really make progress, this is something we have to deal with.”
It took a good minute before Victoria answered. She studied her cuticles intently as she thought, her right leg bouncing up and down restlessly. “All right…” she said finally.

Half an hour later, Victoria left Dr. Weaver’s office. She felt raw, like after a tough workout but not in the muscles. She hadn’t cried, and she held onto that as she walked back through the dimly lit hallway to her room. Talking about it felt like a mistake; she didn’t feel remotely better. But at least she hadn’t cried. The guard that walked her back didn’t attempt to converse, for which she was grateful.
Once she was back behind her heavy steel door, with the lights off and the buzz of the force field humming, Victoria cried.

What do you think?