"Mom?" I call into the dark foyer.

The lights in the house are all off but that doesn't matter. We rarely turn on the lights during the day.

"My room." Comes her muffled reply.

I shuffle my feet across the carpet all the way to her room. The white walls are lined with pictures; Amy with her fiery red hair, Anna with her toothy grin, and Dad with his kind eyes.

I keep my eyes trained on the carpet and my dirty converse trudging along.

I knock lightly on mom's door before I enter.

"Hey, mom,"

Her eyes flutter towards me but ultimately remain on the television as she lies on her bed.

"Yeah, Alyssa?"

"I wanted to talk to you about switching therapists." I twist my hands when she turns to look at me.

"Why would you want to do that?"

That familiar feeling of dread and nausea overwhelms me.

"I just don't feel comfortable talking with her." She continues to stare at me with blank eyes so I continue.

"I don't think I'm making any progress with her."

Mom raises her eyebrows and waits for me to say something further.

"Besides, I've read about a different type of therapy that I was thinking about trying. There's this therapist Dr. Andrews that seems really cool. Of course, it's up to you." I finish, kicking the toe of my shoes into the carpet.

"I'll think about it."