Dedicated to RowanShaw for reviewing this book

"If you aren't going to cooperate with me, I might have to talk to your doctor about putting you on Prozac."

"I don't need Prozac," I tell my aging therapist.

"Then talk to me a little." Taking my silence as a go-ahead she speaks up again.

"Why don't you tell me about the drawing you left the last session?"

"I don't talk about my art, it's interpreted by the viewer to mean something only they can understand. Next subject."

"Ok, then how about we talk about your older sister," She adjusts her thin-rimmed glasses and looks at the stack of papers in her hand "Amy."

"What about her?"

"How about you tell me how you felt when she made her first suicide attempt." I lean back into my seat a little and bring my right leg up and underneath me, probably getting mud on the white couch to Dr. Fowler's displeasure.

"I was scared of losing my sister, any normal girl would be. She was always there to make me smile and then I found out that she didn't want to anymore. She wanted to leave, too." I put my other dirtied white converse on the couch with me disregarding the warning glare Dr. Fowler is giving me.

"When you say 'too', are you referring to your father?" Her voice coming out strained

I nod my head silently as I watch the pendulum swing inside the grandfather clock.

"Can we talk about your father?"

"He left when things got tough. He has a new family now, next question." She kept a calm façade, but I could tell she was getting frustrated by my harsh tone and nonchalant answers.

"Ok what about your younger sister, Anna?" I close my eyes and took a deep calming breath. Opening my eyes, I watch the pendulum swing one last time and speak up.

"I think our session is up." I stood up and made my way to the door as quickly as possible.

"We still have 40 minutes, Miss Marks come back here!" Dr. Fowler calls after me.

I don't stop walking.