*note: i'm not leaving a warning sign or anything at the start of this chapter because i don't think i got that far into it so there isn't much. but no matter. i hope the story is fine and you like it :)

p/s: i will try my best to get better at writing because i really want to improve hahaha and sorry if there's any grammar or spelling mistakes. i'll check it again tomorrow as i am exhausted from school lol"

"So, how are you feeling today?"  the boy- well, young man- in front of me had his eyes fixed on the ground. I bent down slightly to look at the carpet-covered wooden floor to see what he was staring so intently at. At the far corner of the room, a ball of scrunched up paper was visible and I couldn't help but to smile slightly at his following actions. He had gotten up from his seat and made his way over to the corner of the room, bent down, grabbed the ball of paper and threw it into the bin.

"Thank you." I said in a small voice, though not earning any sort of response from him. The silence was deadly and for a second, I forgot that I was supposed to be helping him. Not like he wanted any help from me, anyways.

"You didn't answer my question earlier. How have you been?" I asked again, unsure of whether I would recieve an answer this time. Thankfully, I did.

"I've been okay, I guess. Work has been pretty decent but my manager keeps on telling me that I spend too much time in my cubicle."

"Do you spend a lot of time finishing up paper work?" this question earned me a barely audible "No" from him.

"Then what do you do?" silence again. I looked up at the clock hanging on the wall. We had 35 minutes of our session left and we had barely made any progress. If I couldn't help him or make him open up somehow, my job would become somewhat pointless.

"Clean." he suddenly spoke after a good five minutes.

"I'm sorry. What did you s-"

"I clean. I rearrange my stationery and organize all the files in the cabinets."

"So you're tidy?"

"I like to keep things in order." I started jotting down a few things on the yellow notepad that was neatly placed on my lap.

"Do you arrange all those things in a particular arrangement or do you-"

"The stationeries are placed from left to right. Pencils are sharpened every day and are placed in the left hand side drawer. Files are arranged alphabetically, colour coded, and placed according to the year and date. I don't let anyone go near my cubicle because they always mess it up." he said rather quickly, not even stopping for a breath. Incredibly neat. A sense of dominance over his belongings.

"Do you not like people touching your belongings?" he shook his head.

"I just enjoy keeping things in place and would rather people not hassle me on that matter." his voice was stern and was an indication that I should probably let go of the topic. "Maybe I should find out how this started" I thought to myself. "Okay. Good plan. You can do it, Clara." I quickly sigh at my pathetic self motivational speeches.

"Xiu Min, I would like to know about your childhood. Did you have a good one?" he shook his head once again. "Okay. Progress. He hated his childhood."

"May I know why? Did your parents not allow you to go out and go to the playground with other kids? Were they overprotective?"

"They needed me at home all the time. My father was always at work and my mother had to take care of my younger brother and younger sister. My father worked at a factory and barely got his pay cheque. Some nights, we didn't eat and some nights, we were lucky enough to have plain white rice. It wasn't much but it was sufficient enough for the five of us." Troubled past.

I was about to ask him another question when he continued speaking.

"My parents were wonderful. They worked hard to help and support us. My father came back one day and told me that he had saved enough money for me to go to school. I could continue my studies, I would have to work hard and get a good job and once he was gone, I would have the responsibility to support the whole family."
"Did you feel like you were being put under a lot of pressure?" I asked and oddly, that made him laugh.
"I enjoyed school and I enjoyed studying. I had some friends, I was a good student. I didn't mind working hard because I knew that my family deserved a better life. That was what I planned on giving them." I stared at the 24 year old man again. His gaze was on the small vase on the coffee table separating us; a white orchid placed inside of it. My eyes examined his face and body language. He kept on fiddling with his fingers and his foot was continuously tapping on the floor. I could tell how antsy he had gotten since the session begun though it was not that obvious as his voice had remained completely monotone throughout the session.

"You can fix it if you want." and rightfully so, he did. He moved the porcelain vase slightly to the side, aligning it with the stack of books. There was barely any difference but I didn't say anything, not wanting to anger him.

"Xiu Min, we have about 15 minutes left of our session. So far, we have made some progress but not enough for me to evaluate you properly. We've been seeing each other for over a month now and the most I've heard from you is that you did not have a very nice childhood, your father had some financial difficulties and you enjoy being neat. I'm not sure how much that will get us but I-"

"My father died when I was 15." I looked up to see his face; no emotion visible. If I wanted to know more, I couldn't interrupt. I had to let him speak. I sat there in silence and kept my gaze on the yellow notepad in my hands but noticed that he had looked my way, seeing if he should continue. Eventually, he did.

"When my father was around, we all lived in this tiny house-all five of us-and there was only one bedroom. My parents would sleep there while my siblings and I slept on the living area floor. I wouldn't say that we lived in a dump but it wasn't clean. Piles of clothes covered the floor, books overflowing the shelves and stacks of plates always filled the kitchen sink. I'm not saying my parents didn't do a good job keeping the house in order but they were always just busy. They had far more important things to do."

"Isn't your health important?"

"We all learned how to take care of ourselves, in every way. Our health, our responsibility."

"But they were your parents and you were all kids-"

"I don't appreciate you interrupting me." his voice was cold and the rooms atmosphere quickly mirrored his harsh tone.

"I'm sorr-"

"I don't want to seem rude but you should know when you should speak and when you should allow your patients to continue talking. It's part of the procedure. You have to stick to the rules." His words, projecting once again that he prefers things to be in order.

"I know. It is my job. But I am sorry for my behaviour." my words left him silent once more and I was starting to get exasperated over it.

"So, when my father was at the factory-putting his efforts into something that was in no way beneficial- and when my mother was chasing the two kids around the house, I spent hours and hours cleaning. It made me feel like I had some sort of control over things. I had to make sure things were...." he dragged his sentence, unsure of his words.

"That things were just right?" I asked.

"Exactly! I don't have a problem with germs or sharing things or any of that. I know I have OCD but I don't think it is in any way severe. I just like things to be-like you said-just right. There's nothing wrong with that, right?" I realized that it was a genuine question aimed towards me and I had trouble spitting out the words in my head. Of course there's nothing wrong with it but I just want to know how it started. I'm just trying to do my job.

"I think it's a perfectly healthy manner. What I really want to know is what triggered that part of you to let this side of you show. This..."

"Obsessive compulsive freak?" he said, more like stated.

"No. I believe that you're completely normal and you just have the tendency to do things in a particular way. I hope I have not offended you. I really do want to help y-"

"Why do you want to help me? You said that I'm completely normal and this isn't a bad habit. What is there to help?" and with that, I did not have anything else to say. He was right. What is there to help him with if even I thought he was perfectly sane?

But that was not how I should be. I am meant to help. 

"You're right. But I'm asking you as someone who is curious and just wants to understand. I'm not asking you as your therapist or someone who thinks you've lost your mind. I'm trying to talk to you as a friend." I kept my tone calm and sincere, trying to convey my genuine intentions. He sat there, looking at his feet that were no longer tapping against the floor. His fingers were no longer interlaced with one another. His expressions were unreadable except that one moment he looked up to me and I saw something; fear.

He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but then hastily checked the time on his wrist watch.

"I'm sorry. I think our session is over. I'll see you next week, Doc." and with that, he swiftly got up from his seat and exited the room.

"Doc?" he had never called me that before. He had also never displayed any other sort of emotion than- well, than nothing as a matter of fact.

But fear? That was a start. Not a very pleasant one but it was definitely something to look further into.

"Ms. Watts?" I turned to see my assistant's head, peering inside my office.

"Your next patient is here. Should I call him in?" I rummaged through the piles of papers that covered the top of my desk and let out a sigh of relief once I found the file.

"Maybe I should let Xiu Min organize my office" I thought to myself. And with that thought floating through my mind, I proved to myself-once again- that I was an incompetent therapist.

"Sleeping Disorder/Insomnia." was what was written on the file. Someone cleared their throat and I noticed my assistant, still standing by the door frame.

"Oh-sorry. Yes, call him in."