"Your next patient is ready to see you now."

I leaned back in my plush green chair and took a long sip of coffee. I mentally ran through my schedule. "I don't have a two o'clock appointment on Thursdays." This is usually when I take a walk to go see the ducks down the road.

"You do now," the secretary said, dropping a heavy pile of paperwork on my desk. 

I picked up one of the documents and scanned it. These documents are the opposite of official. They looked as if they'd been forged by a toddler. It's probably illegal for me to see a patient with obviously fake papers, but my curiosity always gets the best of me. "Send them in."

...

A bedraggled-looking woman with long, frizzy gray hair and an eye patch covering her left eye stepped into my office. Not a toddler, as previously suspected. She looked to be somewhere in her late fifties. She had deep scars crawling up her arms and chest, covered by tattoos.  She wore a tight black tank top and dark leather pants. She looked like a badass grandma. She slumped down in the chair adjacent to mine and crossed her legs. "Hey kid, how's it going?"

I cleared my throat. "I'm doing well."

"Liar," She muttered under her breath.

"Excuse me?"

"Why don't you tell me how you're really feeling?"

I folded my arms across my chest. "Because I'm the therapist, and you're the patient. It's my job to talk about your problems, not mine."

"Do you ever get tired of bottling everything up all the time?" 

I ignored that question. "There's something in your hair."

She laughed and pulled out a feather and laughed. "Would you look at that?" She twirled the feather between her thumb and index finger. "I just got back from visiting the ducks. Did you know the ducklings hatched this morning?"

I shook my head. I didn't know that. I haven't gotten a chance to see them yet today. 

She let out a wistful sigh. "Angry Steve is finally a father. It's really a beautiful thing." 

I dropped my pen. "Come again?" I'd never told

anyone about the name I'd given the fat green mallard that constantly stole my lunch. 

She ignored my question and kept talking. "I brought him a garden salad with extra peas to celebrate. That's his favorite food, you know?"

I did know, but no one else did. "What did you say your name was?"

She smirked. "I didn't."

I frowned and flipped through her file. I skimmed the name at the top of the page. Raven Darkblade. 

I rolled my eyes so hard; I think I saw my brain. Yeah, right! That's the fakest name I've ever heard. I'd know. That's the fake name I used online as an edgy teen. "Who the hell are you?" 

I think you already know.

I shook my head. "This isn't possible. I don't believe it." 

She swiped my coffee mug off the table and slurped up the last of my latte. "Believe it, sister." 

"How did you get here?"

"Time machine," she said without any elaboration. 

"What the hell happened to us?" I said, gesturing towards her disheveled appearance. 

"What can I say? The cyborg apocalypse really did a number on me, but it's not all bad, though." 

I raised a skeptical eyebrow. "It's not? One would assume the literal end of the world would be the definition of terrible." 

She shrugged. "I'm less lonely now. I made a lot of friends while I was hiding for my life." 

I scoffed. "I'm not lonely. I love being alone." 

She shot me an incredulous look. "You know you can't lie to me, right?" 

"It's not a lie. People are the worst, and they suck. I'm better off without them."

"It feels like that sometimes, but I promise, not all people are bad."

I slammed down my notebook and pencil on the coffee table. "Why are you here? What do you want from me!" 

"I'm here to let you know, no matter how bad the world gets, you're going to be okay." 

I refused to meet her gaze. "I don't believe you. I'm not okay, and I never will be!"

"I promise you; you won't always hurt this much." She reached out to comfort me, but I jerked away.

"Shut up! I don't want to hear it! Just go away!"

"Stay strong, kid," she whispered. "You're gonna make it."

I squeezed my eyes shut to combat the oncoming flood of tears. When I opened them, she was gone.

....

I stepped outside my office. I closed my eyes and let out a long, deep sigh, trying to process what had just happened. I trudged past the secretary's desk as I walked towards the exit. I needed fresh air. 

The secretary smiled and waved at me. "Hello, doctor. Are you going to see the ducks?" 

"Yeah." My hand froze as I reached for the door handle. "Do you want to come with me?"