Insert Hipster Title With No Relevance To The Actual Story Here

Chapter 1

"Thirteen years now."

Is this your decision or was it because your parents wanted you to continue?" Her voice was distant, her mind more focused on making sense of the words on the papers.

I rolled my eyes. Her attempts at small talk were pathetic. I knew it was only a matter of time before she started asking questions that were related to the reason of my visit. " I decided to continue because I wanted to." I began to play with the rubber bracelets on my left wrist.

"Interesting," she said absently, making it clear that she wasn't paying any attention to my response at all.

"You know, you may as well ask that folder of yours all of these questions," I said, " It's seems to know everything else about my life so I feel that my presence is unnecessary.

Dr. Lester looked towards me. "And why would you say that?"

"You haven't asked me a single question that you can't find the answer to in that folder. That isn't going to tell you anything about who I am. Instead, why don't we play around of Bed, Wed and Behead or Truth or Dare? You can learn a lot about a person that way."

The frown I was expecting to fill her face was replaced with a little smirk. "Alright, then, she said, "Since you seem to know more about getting to know people, let's play a game. 20 Questions."

"Ah. The mating call of the Caucasian male," I said.

"Shall we begin?"

"Sure. How is the wedding planning going?"

She blinked, slightly startled. "How did you know about-"

"Your desk is stacked with bridal magazines and the diamond on your finger is size of a nickel. Someone must love you."

She took a minute to recompose herself. "The planning is going quite well, actually. It's surprising how things are running so smoothly."

"June wedding?" I asked.

"July. I'm guessing you didn't come here willingly," she said, changing the subject rather abruptly.

"Gee, I wonder what gave that away."

"I didn't finish. You aren't naturally stubborn, but you're acting this way because your parents forced you into this. It's not the best of relationships, is it?"

"My father and I are on good terms,"I said truthfully, " Mother, well, she gets along better with the others." I felt my facade crack with the bitter edge that crept into my tone at the mention of my mother.

"And these others--"

"Ah ah," I interrupted,"Your question is over. My turn. I don't think I'm the only one with family problems here. How are things with your father these days, Doctor?"

"Why would you think that things were tense between my father and me?" Her voice was intrigued.

"Because if you could have any job in the world, you wouldn't be sitting in this office, but you would be standing in a courtroom, defending your clients as the lawyer you have always wanted to be. Your father, however, thought it would be best for you to take over the family practice, something you accepted grudgingly."

"And how did you figure that out, Sherlock?"

The proof was everywhere. A copy of The Interpretation of Dreams by Sigmund Freud sat on her bookshelf in pristine condition, unlike her series of John Grisham books that were right next to it, the paperbacks worn and ratted from multiple use. Her edition of Psychology Today sat on the glass coffee table, in the shadow of today's newspaper. The breakthrough studies on schizophrenia apparently weren't as important to the doctor as the new details on the case everyone in Southern California seemed to be following. Clearly, this was what she used to escape her mundane life, evading the reality check that the sight of her father's picture gave her every time she came to work.

But instead of launching into my detailed explanation, I simply said, "It was a wild guess."

The red smirk returned to her face once again. "That was pretty descriptive for a wild guess," she remarked.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I have an over active imagination. Creating stories is something I do to help pass the time."

She nodded in agreement, but I could tell she wasn't buying it. "My question," she said, "Those others you were talking about earlier, they are your siblings, I presume?"

"Unfortunately yes."

"Can you describe your relationship to each of them for me?" she asked.

"Technically, that's two questions, but, I'll let it slide. There is Kate, Melanie, and Marissa. Oh, and the new baby that's on the way, but I don't think I can describe my relationship with him. Or it could be a her. I'm just going to refer to the baby as it from this point forward. Anyways, Melanie is two years younger than me, and I believe the last time we spoke to each other willingly was when dinosaurs roamed the Earth. Kate is eight, and we get along just fine. And Marissa, well, Marissa and I were the closet when in the womb. But even then she nearly strangled me with the umbilical cord when we were born."

"You two never shared that special sister bond, did you?"

I looked up and met Dr. Lester gaze for the first time. "Honestly, I don't think I would be the primary suspect in her murder case if we did."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's note (its kind a long and rambly but read on if you please):

Umm idk how to start this so I'll just say ello!

That sounded vaugely British and I'm not quite sure why.

Anyways, I would first and fore mostly like to thank peininwords (you all should go check her wattpad out she is incredible) for sticking with this story even when it was a poorly written anger rant by an anxiety-ridden eleven year old girl. I can assure you in the past three years that I have had 69% maturity growth and my writing has evolved as well. Now that I have a direction for this story I can hopefully update it more often and actually come to a conclusive ending. Huzzah!

On the topic of updates, I'll update whenever I can and I sincerely apologize if I keep you waiting for too long, the majority of the minority of the 6% of you actually reading my story. There is an unfortunate thing known as life that keeps getting in the way of my creative process, and I will work my way around it as best as possible. But know that I love you all and that you, dear readers, are the most important part to making this story a success (Well, technically the plot line and the witty dialogue which is my brain child is 90% of the reason, but never under estimate your importance none the less).

As you can probably see, the title of this story is a mouthful, and if you have any suggestions or ideas for a new title message me, and I will forever be in your debt. Your votes, comments and suggestions regarding my writing are always welcome. And so are giant jars of Nutella.

To leave you on something a little bit worthwhile, here are my recommendations on things that we encounter on an everyday basis:

Book Recommendation: The Fault in Our Stars by John Green ( a bit stereotypical, I know, but it truly was a sweet novel and since the movie is coming out this weekend you will probably find me in a puddle of my own tears)

Wattpad Recommendations: A Perpetual Longing by hopedreamfear and Mr. and Mr. Oakley-Sivan by Yellowfin_Tuna. They are both troyler fics (if your into that ship), but the authors have other really good stuff as well.

And this is where I think I'll stop talking.

Fair Winds,

Captain Amani