I was sat silently in my weekly appointment with the school's counsellor, who chewed lightly on the tip of his pen as he stared at me in curiosity. I trembled under his gaze, keeping my head down as I awaited his words.

"You seem a bit better than last time," He observed, and I instantaneously raised my head in suspicion. "Have you gone through any recent changes, mentally?"

I shook my head silently, and he raised an eyebrow. "You sure? Because you're a lot more relaxed than usual. Well, I wouldn't say relaxed- more in control. Like you're comfortable with it."

"I feel the same." I honestly muttered.

He ran a hand through his black hair and adjusted his glasses a little before writing a few notes into his notepad. "However..." He paused as he flicked onto another page. "I noticed that you've stopped clipping your fingernails. They're a bit long, aren't they?"

I crossed my arms to hide them. "I guess."

"I thought we made a promise to keep them short? Remember when your mam and dad called me because they were worried about you?"

I felt an irritation at the back of my leg. "I haven't been scratching."

"You look like you want to scratch right now." He whispered in concern, causing me to anxiously squirm at the sudden need to drag my fingers into my skin.

"I'm fine." I faintly said.

He took out an elastic band and hesitantly passed it my way, he made me put my arm out- and he put it around my wrist. "Whenever you want to scratch- tug on the band."

I was rigid as I shyly nodded and cautiously stood to my feet. "Please can I leave now? I-I have class."

He shrugged hopelessly. "I would like to talk more-"

"I really need to go to class." I lied, I didn't even have a class. Oh gosh, I was a mess.

I made my way past his office and my shakily legs scurried to the door. "I'm s-sorry."

I was so glad that he didn't chase me, maybe he realised that I was uncomfortable- and he knew I needed time. I repeatedly tugged onto my elastic band as I worriedly power walked down the halls.

Mrs Valentine was seen carrying her text books as she strolled gracefully down the corridor in her high heels and pencil skirt. I immediately approached her and rigidly offered a helping hand. I needed to do just about anything to make the bad thoughts go away.

"Do you need help?"

"Aw," She smiled gratefully and passed me three of her books. "Thanks, love- I'm taking them to my room."

I happily obliged to he request, and carried them safely up a flight of stairs and into her class room. "How's mam and dad? Are they okay?"

"They're good." I breathed.

I placed the books on her desk gently, and found myself awkwardly staring at her cluelessly. I just needed comfort from someone.

It was very uncalled for, but I clung my arms around her for a hug. She was shocked at first, but as soon as she heard me whimper and sob she soon returned the hug. She kept her arms around me as she patted my back. "Darling, what's wrong?"

"A-Anxious." I sniffled and pouted my trembling lip.

"Breathe in through your nose..." She inhaled at her own words, and then relaxingly exhaled. "And out from your mouth."

"In through your nose," I repeated in a whisper. "Out through your mouth."

"That's good," She assured. "Why are you anxious? What's making you this way?"

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