Alright. I'm sort of taking my friends advise on me being some kind of person..that writes. Lol. Yes. Funny. But I've taken in the challenge. So...I'm going to just start writing whatever comes into my head and hopes it make sense. I'll make the title last...I guess. I haven't even really brainstormed. I'm just going to..wing it. As they say. cool
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"...How are you today Dakota?" Ms.Denna asked me calmly. She had medium long brown hair, and looked to be in at least her early 40's. My mom decided to get me a counselor, since she is coming up with this idea that I'm a "depressed child". I'm suppose to visit Ms.Denna every Tuesday, and talk to her about my feelings. Which I personally think that I have no use for the counselor, and she would more than likely not be able to help me. I decided to not ignore her---that was the idea I had stuck in my head since me and my mom left the house. "I'm...good I guess...why would you ask me that anyway?" I told her stubbornly. All of a sudden her face changed from that friendly happy expression to something more complicated that I couldn't really figure out. But she looked a little angry. "Why would I not ask that? I am your counselor after all." she threw those words in my face like they would actually effect me;like it actually bothered me that people thought I needed a counselor. "Oh. I remember now. That's what counselors do. Use psychology to pry their way into their patients mind. Go ahead. Try me. But I'm not spilling anything to you, or anyone else you put in here." I told her angrily. I was really not in the mood to deal with this woman. But of course, like always, I had to obey my parent because I was the 14 year old in the family. I had to be good and live up to everyone's expectations. "Heh,okay. Sure doll. I won't try THOSE skills just yet. I just want to talk. Is that too much to ask?"
"Apparently it is."
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