Chapter Eight: Therapy Is A Bitch

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Yes I know! Cussing, blah blah blah. If you've ever gone to thearpy you know it's true!

So long and goodnight


-macabre-

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 Without a simple knock on the door Olivia's mother decide it was the perfect time to check on her mentally darkened daughter. Of course Olivia was doing as she did everyday for the past month, blare sad music and lay in a cave a warm blankets. While she did this her mind wander, from simple things like:

Why even bother getting up?

Why even go to school at all?

Then you would get to the deep in where there was  thoughts such as:

Why are you alive?

and

Why don't you just stop breathing?

 Olivia's mother interrupted her swim into the the dark depths of her mind by gently sitting on the edge of her bed.

"What?"

"What's wrong honey?"

"Nothing."

"Somethings wrong!"


"Please stop yelling."

"That's it I'm done with you!"

"Okay.."

"Therapy it is"

"Whoa, let's not take it that far!"

"No, you already have an appointment today. Get dressed."

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    You know therapist are strangers in some since, and as kids we where taught the golden rule 'Stranger Danger'. So it was only natural for Olivia to hold back every emotion in her facial expression Then the therapist read off her list of questions, sounding exactly like a self help book.

"So, Olivia are you liking this session."

"No."

"Why is that?"

"Cause' therapy is a bitch!"

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