The Smallest Knight

The New Normal

1 month Month Later
Rex Sky frowns angrily, clutching his clients notebook. What should've been a half written page, was two words spelled out instead: screw this.

He flipped through several pages, each proving disappointing evidence. "Neal, thought we agreed you would try."

Sitting across Rex's desk, sat Neal arms crossed. "Whatever..."

Paler, and disturbingly thinner, Neal's sudden change of appearance in under a month troubled Rex. Not only did his looks seem troublesome, the teenage boys personality altered completely: Neal speaks single worded sentences, refuses smiling or laughing, and rarely shows emotion.

"Neal, tell me the reason for our new exercise." Rex said.

"Can't remember." Neal replied quietly.

"Yes you do."

"Fine, I remember, but I don't care." He mutters, shifting uncomfortably.

"There's the problem, you quit caring." Rex knew Finns coma would bring issues, yet he never imagined level of depression Neal struck.

"What's the point? Writing my emotions won't wake him up." Rex noted Neal refuses speaking Finn's name, or mentioning the shooting. He'll say little details regarding the two topics, however won't go further into detail.

"Writing down your feelings helps me understand; you won't verbally share anything, and I know your amazing writing. Expressing feelings through writing helps many people, and I know you'll feel better if trying." Rex gently smiled, handing Neal his notebook back.

"Tell me, how's freshman year going?" He asked.

"Okay...Mr. Earl said I'm his top language art student." Neal loved Mr. Ear. Mr. Earl teaches freshman language arts, and pushes his students mentally.

Unlike fellow classmates, Neal adores reading challenging books, and writing papers. Currently, Neal's class reads To Kill a Mockingbird. Surprisingly, Neal finished reading assignments early, and plans to finish the book report tomorrow which isn't due until next week.

Mr. Earl, blond curly hair, and middle age, applauded Neal's achievements, and hard working.

"Awesome Neal, I'm sure Ingrid and Mike are proud." Rex grinned.

"Yeah..." he shrugged. "Um....because I worked hard, Mr. Earl gave me a pamphlet today, regarding schools creating writing contests." Neal dug around in his bag, and grabbed a pamphlet.

Rex glanced over the information.

High School Freshman Creative Writing Contest.
During the last week of September, language art teachers will accept short creative stories from Freshmen! After reading, and approving qualified stories, the teachers will vote for the best short story, and grant a hundred dollars as the award! Feel free to participate, and show us your writing skills.

"Sounds fun, hopefully you'll participate?" Rex raised an eyebrow.

"Yes..no...maybe...I'm undecided." Neal stammers, fingers fidgeting.

"Neal, perhaps focusing on something like writing contest might help ease your mind. Should say, it'll keep you distracted."

"Really think it's a good idea?" Neal questioned quietly.

"I do," Rex nodded. "I'm sure he would want you to."

"Yeah, I agree." His client sighs.

"Still using the inhaler?" Lately, Neal's anxiety tripled tremendously; stronger anxiety attacks leads him to struggle breathing properly, and requiring assistance.