***
The very next morning, Afzaal, dressed in a pair of black formal jeans with grey dress shirt with his coat on  and dark grey laced boots on entered the reception from the doctor's common room.

His both hands were inside his jeans pocket and he walked confidently towards the desk. He stopped at the desk where an official joyfully greeted him and he replied with the same enthusiasm.

He moved forward and presented his hand for a handshake.
"I need a favor." He said to the man on desk as the handshake broke.
"Sure." The man replied and Afzaal slipped his hand in his pocket and got out a brown A4 size envelope.

"A blood sample, I need this tested for blood group." He narrated and the official nodded while accepting the packet.
"OK. I'll send it to your cabin as soon as it's done." He assured.
"Thanks man." Afzaal thanked him and left towards the elevator.

***
A week later, it was Maria's fourth session with Dr Afzaal. So she was

It was late noon around four pm as usual Maria was in the hospital for her scheduled appointment with Dr Afzaal. She dressed in dark blue faded denims which loosely hugged her not so curvy legs, a plain red top till her lower thighs with black  joggers and a compact brown handbag held in her right fist, she moved out of the elevator with joggers dimly tapping the empty corridors of the hospital, walking  towards Dr Afzaal's cabin confidently .
Her hair were neatly tied in considerably low pony tail with a fine fringe on the forehead.

It was a Tuesday morning still the corridors were empty as if all the medical staff had retired for the day or the staff had not joined in for their shifts for the day. She wondered that why the place was empty while she walked her way to Dr Afzaal's cabin.

She reached there soon and with a bright optimistic smile on her face, she flew open the door to his cabin without knocking. The door swung open and she astonishingly acknowledged that the cabin was empty. She peeked thoroughly and all she could see was Dr Afzaal's desk with bundle of papers lying on it, lights flickering and the wind roaring through the window.

She stepped inside and roamed inside waiting for Dr Afzaal. After the wait of fifteen minutes she boringly walked out. She was walking with fast steps while her eyes strictly directed onto the floor, just then she bumped into a person. As she embarrassingly turned her gaze upwards, she acknowledged that it was no other Dr Afzaal.

"Maria!" He exclaimed.
"Hello." She replied.
"I am sorry for being late." He apologized with a embarrassed smile as he checked his wrist watch for the nth time.

"It's okay Dr," She calmed him.
"Lets start then." She finished while walking into the cabin.
"Nope." He solidly announced and she confusingly turned around facing  him.

"Then?" She eagerly asked as she slid the flick of hair off her face.
"Follow me." He replied mysteriously gesturing her to follow him.
She nodded and starting walking behind him out of the cabin, towards the reception.

From the reception he took the first left then a right and then he walked straight until they reached a big grey door with purely transparent glass.

It looked like a really huge room, with few sitting chairs, few comfy sofas, pillows, tinted glass tables and lots of big lamps. It didn't looked like any Doctor's cabin or any operating room but maybe a common room or therapy room.

She turned towards Afzaal signalling him with her fingers that what is this but he without giving any visible reply, he gestured her to step inside and she did as per his commands.

"Welcome to the therapy room." He told her just as he entered the room right after her.
"What therapy?" She asked her while observing the room.

"Look, I studied your case and have figured out that you are doing very well except few episodes of your depression history," he started speaking and she turned to him listening to each and every word he uttered.

"Now I suggest to have few sessions of therapy. For today I have planned free association therapy for now. " he finished and she anxiously smiled and looked around the room observantly.

Afzaal walked into the room and placed his phone on the neighboring glass topped table. She unhanded her handbag off her arm and placed it near a sofa, rubbing her sweaty warm palms in an attemp to kill her nerviousness.

"You look nervous." Afzaal said as picked up a notebook, not the usual one but another navy blue notebook with a pen attached at the back of it.

"Yes I am," she answered stammering in between. She loosened her palms.
"I have never ever been through any such therapy, that's why." She finished glaring Afzaal who was still into his notebook.

"It's as simple as a piece of cake." He turned his head up, closing the notebook and portraying a comforting smile to her on his face.

***
As informed by Afzaal, Maria took seat on a brown leather recliner with her cracked feet loosely placed on the foot rest while her loosened arms rested on the two arm rests and her head lied on the recliner back with her eyes dug deep into their sockets probably due to huge amount of anxiety, she was going through, her lips looked chapped and few strands of hair dancing by her pale forehead.

The room was extremely dimly lighted, dim enough to consider it almost a dark room except a writing lamp shining towards her left at a distance of few inches, right beside the couch on which Afzaal was seated clutching his notebook.

Beside which was another sofa not a recliner but of the same brown color and material. On it Afzaal rested with crossed legs, concentrating on each and every word he was writing in the diary.

He was dressed in formal black pants and a white linen un tucked shirt with it's cuffs folded till his wrist and a grey watch ticking on his left wrist with no shoes on his feet but a pair of plain grey socks.

After writing another brief sentence on his diary he turned his face up, still his face was unable to identify as the room was dark and the lamp was only able to direct light onto the diary pages.

He looked up, observed Maria sharply who was apparently asleep or was in pre REM stage. He noticed her body language from head to toe carefully and then uttered something.

"Maria?" He called.
"Yeesses." She replied sluggishly.
"How are you?" He asked plainly again observing her closely.
She didn't replied.
"How are you Maria?" He asked again softly.
"Fine." She replied lowly.

"What's up?" He asked slowly as he noticed she just loosened her fists.
"Life is pretty good," she started and he smiled at it.
"My university is going great." She finished plainly.

"What about your family?" He asked emphasizing on the word 'family'.
"No," she stopped.
"It's not good. My mom is a good person and my dad is also a good person but they are very bad people," she took a breath.

"They don't love me." She sighed.
"Why do you think so?" He asked her almost as low as whispering while he knelt onto her such that his mouth was just few inches away from her face.
"They never loved me. They never cared that their divorce broke me so bad that I won't ever be able to recover." She said, blabbering in between.

"What happened?" He asked her in the most comforting tone he could use at that time while his gaze fixed on her.
She shivered a little, closed her dry fists.

"I was fifteen years old, shy introvert kind of a girl. I still remember that day when I was sleeping and I woke up to some voices...........

'I hate getting flashbacks from things, I don't want to remember'