Everything and More

Diagnosis

A/N: I'm literally working on everything right now don't be mad! I also have a new story. It isn't a BVB fanfic (thankfully). It a werewolf (I feel embarrassed just saying that) novel, and I would love for you to check it out.

Also, I have a character for Blaire! Emily Didonato, one of my favorite models, is the perfect image for her. She didn't exactly have those steel gray eyes I imagined, but we can pretend right?

BLAIRE

I looked down at my hands, waiting for the psychologist to call me in. I have been sitting here with my father for about an hour. I looked up to find an older woman staring at me. I know I looked like shit, but I really didn't want anyone acknowledging it.

She gave a a soft smile, making me shrink back down in my seat. "Is there a Blaire Silva?" The receptionist asked. I stood up, giving my dad a small wave as she led me into his office.

It was nothing like what the movies depicted it as. There was no daybed for me to lay on, no dark aesthetic to it. The walls were painted a soft beige color, bringing in warmth. There was a plush couch littered with pillows and a love seat across from it.

A Middle aged man stood from the chair and welcomed me. "You must be Blaire!" he said kindly. "I'm Dr. Murphy, it's a pleasure to meet you." I hesitantly shook his hand and squirmed as he seemed to size me up. "Please, have a seat."

I gently sat down on the couch across from him placing my hands in my lap.

"I talked to your father for quite a while on the phone yesterday. He's very concerned for you." I couldn't bring myself to look at Murphy, to scared of him being able to tell what I was thinking. Andy said my fave didn't give things away easily, but I wanted to be extra cautious.

"He- uh, he mentioned that you were having some problems at school. How long has this been happening?"

I took a long pause before answering softly, "since kindergarten." Dr. Murphy didn't say much, just writing down my answer.

"And do you know why?" Of coarse I funking knew why. I've always known, and that's why I've always hated myself. It was my fault.

"No." He knew I was lying, but I didn't care.

I spent a good two hours in his office. He analyzed me, judging every word, every movement, even my posture. I only hinted at what was going on in my head, but he could read through all of it.

We walked out, Dr. Murphy calling my father over. I stood patiently listening to their conversation.

"Mr. Silva, you were right to bring her here. I've decided to diagnose your daughter with major depression." I could feel both of their burning gazes on me. "I need to prescribe her to a pill and I want to see her twice a week if that isn't to much trouble."

"No no, not at all. Anything she needs. I'm going to be away on business for quite some time, however," he said.

"Can someone else bring her?"

"Her boyfriend would definitely be willing to." My dad knew my stepmom wouldn't give a shit about me.

"That will work out fine. Blaire?" I looked up to see he was handing me a bottle of pills. "You need to take these twice a day, morning and night." His eyes trailed down to my exposed wrists as I grabbed them. It's a good thing I didn't but there.

ANDY

I opened the door for Blaire, giving her a kiss. "How did it go?" I asked. She help up a bottle and shook it. I grabbed it from her hand an read the label. "Major depression."

My heart dropped.

"I'm so sorry," I whispers. I reached out for Blaire and pulled her into my arms. "How do you feel?"

"I really don't feel anything anymore, Andy."

Song: Voodoo Child, Jimi Hendrix