"Clarity" Treatment

In a forest, a boy, sitting on a log in a clearing, ponders his existence. Things are always the same. He thinks of the torture, the pain, the anguish of his everyday life. He considers the teasing and the bullying, the pressure, and the ennui. But most of all, he dwells on the loneliness. He has no friends, no companions, not even any acquaintances. He's a loner--he, himself, and him, all alone in this cold world.

In town, the boy, sitting in a chair in the school office, ponders his existence. Noting a flier for a local group therapy session, he scoffs. No one understands his struggle. No one can relate to him. Hell, no one even tries. He's a loner--he, himself, and him, all alone in this cold world.

In the forest, just like every day, the boy approaches his log. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees something new. A carving on a tree. Long ago, in despair, he had carved a note reflecting his feelings. However, what he saw was not what he remembered. A new mark. Just two words: "What's wrong?"

A flurry of emotion sweeps over him. Embarrassment, relief, doubt, clarity, happiness, sadness. But most of all, confusion. He looked around. Had someone really found his spot? What did they want? Did they really care? Did someone... care?

Now slightly smiling, he answers the question as honestly as possible: "Nothing at the moment." He grins; a single tear rolls down his cheek.

Smiling, he strolls down the street. Smiling, he connects eyes with those staring and whispering and giggling. Smiling, he ignores them. Things aren't the same anymore. He's not a loner--he has a friend in this cold world.

Every day, he finds a new response to one of his own on the tree. And every day, he leaves one in return.

Things aren't the same anymore, and he shows it. Realizing he needs it, he joins group therapy. Gradually, he begins to integrate himself into society more and more, and gradually, the stares and whispers and giggles fade.

Without noticing, he is visiting his clearing less and less. The conversations take longer and longer to proceed, as he has less time or motivation to return to them.

One day, he returns to the clearing. He reminisces nostalgically on his experiences here. Things aren't how they once were; he has friends, he has a life. He isn't a loner.

Smiling, he turns to the tree carvings and frowns at what he sees. As he reads and rereads the conversation, he comes to believe his "partner" must be losing his mind. The partner's latest notes reflect his feelings: of isolation, of loneliness.The boy's partner appears to be becoming more needy as his replies lose frequency. The boy shakes his head in disgust, departing.

In the forest, a boy, sitting on a log in the clearing, ponders his existence.