Her office was somewhat large. It had a desk with an office chair, a swinging chair, and led lights. On the walls were a few drawings and paper butterflies.
"I like those drawings and butterflies."
"Thank you! I did all these myself, in my free time."
"Wow, you're pretty good at drawing. And the butterflies make this room look a lot better."
"If you want, we can make some as we talk. I know you probably still feel a bit uncomfortable, and having something to fidget with will probably help."
"Okay, show me how to make them."
Emerson reached down and pulled out a box full of paper.
"What color do you want?"
I grabbed a light purple sheet of paper and she placed the box onto her desk.
"Have you ever thought about doing art commissions or other things that need art skills?" I asked. "I like drawing too and I'm working on a comic."
"I had a summer job where I did animation, and I've tried writing a comic before. I gave up though, I can never draw the second eye successfully. So first fold the paper diagonally both ways like this."
As we continued folding, we also kept talking.
"I'm trying to make a comic with a girl who wants to defeat her bullies. One day she finds a book about magic and tries a spell in it, which teleports her into another world. In that other world, she gains skills to be able to defeat her bullies when she gets back home. She ends up getting teleported into a book and survives throughout the whole thing."
"That sounds interesting!" Emerson answered while smiling. "Here's the next step, it's complicated but you got it."
I watched as the sheet of paper turned into a small triangle.
"What did you just do?" I asked, feeling confused.
"Watch."
I stared as she repeated the step she just did and I tried again.
"I got it!"
"Nice. Flip it this way now and fold these up. Why'd your dad get you a therapist? Is everything okay at home? At school?"
"Well, my mom and dad are about to get divorced. I'm kinda anxious about it all."
"Aww, I'm sorry about that. If it helps, would you like to do a few exercises to help with calming down?"
"Okay. How long am I supposed to be here for?"
"An hour, but if you need to go early for any reason you can. Most appointments tend to be an hour long."
Before I knew it, I found myself walking back to the waiting room with Emerson. My dad was waiting inside and she walked over as soon as we stepped into the room.
Emerson is really cool and pretty, I thought. She had soft, fluffy wavy black hair and dark brown eyes. In addition, she wore eyeliner and had a beautiful smile.
"Are you going to come back next week?" Emerson asked.
"Tiffany, do you want to keep coming back?"
"Yes."
"In that case, I need to talk to you sir." Emerson answered.
I unlocked my phone and started playing my favorite game while they talked.
"Let's go Tiffany." My dad said a few minutes later.
"Okay." I responded.
We're back once again, I thought as I opened up the car door. Exactly a week ago was the day I first met Emerson. She said something about running some tests, but I don't exactly remember what it was.
I saw my therapist a few minutes later and we went back up to her office again.
"How was your week?"
"It was alright, things are tough at home though. Yesterday I moved in with my aunt so I'm still adjusting to that. They have a 12 year old kid named James, he's nice."
"And at school?"
"I don't talk to many people at school."
"Why not?"
"I feel awkward around them."
"Let's talk about that next week then. Today, I told you we were gonna run some tests. We're heading over to a different area for it, come with me."
We walked out of her office and down the hall to a large room with white walls and no paintings. Wow, this place is drab.
Thirty minutes later, my therapist walked back in with a small packet.
"Come, let's go back to my office."
Once again, we headed down to her office. I sat down in the swinging chair and waited for her to sit down in her office chair.
"Have you ever heard of maladaptive daydreaming disorder?" She asked.
"No, what is that?"
"Take this packet home and go over it. I'm gonna end your session early for you to process all the information. The reason why I asked you to read it is because you have it."
What? There's no way.
I took the packet and headed over to the waiting room, where my dad was on his phone.
"Dad."
He looked up in surprise.
"What's up? You're here early."
"Emerson wanted me to go home early to read this." I said while holding up the packet. "She said I have maladaptive daydreaming disorder or whatever it's called."
"Okay, let's go then."
We arrived at my aunt's house twenty minutes later.
"Welcome back Tiffany!" My aunt said.
"Thanks," I responded. "I'll be upstairs if you need me."
I headed up to my room, closed the door, and called Moxie.
"Hello?" He said.
"Moxie! We need to talk."
"What's up?"
"Well, I have maladaptive daydreaming disorder apparently."
"How do you know?"
"I got a therapist and they told me."
"I thought you couldn't get one."
"That changed. I don't want to accept that it's true though, so I'm going back to my amusement park."
"Maybe this is why you're always so distracted. All these daydreams."
"Shush."
It went silent for a moment.
"Do you even know anything about maladaptive daydreaming?" Moxie asked.
"No, but I was given a packet about it."
I grabbed the packet and felt like my heart was starting to sink. A pool began to form in my eyes and when I couldn't hold it back anymore, the tears flowed out.
"Why am I like this?!" I yelled while crying even harder.
