•Emotion• Denis Stoff

August 25th, 2015

Tuesday... Which means I have therapy after school..

Therapy was something I never really liked. When I was first diagnosed with SPD, my therapist would give me a lollipop whenever I went to see her. I never ate them, I would always give them to my brother, Adam, and he would eat them. My therapist will always ask me three questions. "How are you?", "Have you been taking your meds?", and the last one is always a surprise. Sometimes I'll answer, sometimes I'll just stay quiet.

**

After eating breakfast, I went upstairs to grab my bag and phone. Quickly, I grabbed my stuff and walked towards my door. I glanced at my medicine and stopped walking. Maybe I could take them today, maybe talk to Bree and Denis if he still does. I poured two pills onto my hand, putting them into my mouth and swallowing.

**

I sat at my desk, waiting for Bree to walk in. I may not talk to her, but I actually look forward to her attempting to talk to me.

"Bella!" Bree said, as she sat down.

I gave her a small smile.

"You smiled!" She gasped, clapping her hands together. "You must be in a good mood today."

"Maybe." I whispered.

**

I walked into my history class, seeing Denis already at the table. I sat down, causing Denis to look at me.

"Hi Alexandria." He said, smiling at me.

"Hey." I whispered, taking my binder out of my bag.

"How are you?" He asked.

"G-good." I said, trying to engage into the conversation.

"You didn't whisper." He chuckled.

He has this accent, I can't quite figure it out. It's not Australian or British, so what is it? It's quite intriguing.

"Good morning class." My dad greets, earning a bunch of "morning".

While taking notes, Denis slides over a piece of paper. I grab it, unfolding it to read it.

'Walk with me during Gym today?'

I look at him and nod, earning a smile from him.

**

"How are your classes so far?" My mom asked, taking a bite from her salad.

During lunch I either sit in my dads class or my moms office.

"Okay." I said, playing with this so called 'meat' they serve us.

"That's good, any new friends?"

"T-there's Denis." I whispered, slightly smiling.

"There's a boy!"

"I-It's not like that." I mumbled.

She smiles at me, ruffling my hair. I quickly fix it, making sure it's neat.

**

"Why don't you talk much?" Denis asks,as we walk the track.

I fiddled with my thumbs and bite my lip, not sure how to answer that. What do I say? I have a disorder? No I can't say that, it scares them away.

"I'm just shy." I whisper.

"Don't be shy, I don't bite." He chuckles.

I looked at him, catching a glimpse of what seems to be a wing on his chest. He must have a tattoo on his their as well.

"What?" He asks, causing me to jump.

"Nothing." I mumble, looking away.

"I caught you staring, thought something was wrong." He said, kicking another rock.

"You have an accent." I said, coming out much clearer than I thought.

"I do actually. It's Ukrainian." He told me, sitting on the bleachers.

I nod my head, my question answered. I sat down, watching the other students run the track.

**

"How are you today Arabella?" My therapist asked me, opening her book.

"Good." I mumble.

"That's good, have you been taking your medicine?"

I shake my head slowly, looking away. She writes something down in her book, most likely how I'm not taking my meds.

"But I took them today." I whisper.

"Good, let today be the start." She smiled. "You started school yesterday, how did it go?"

"Okay."

"I'm glad you're responding today." She said, smiling at me still.

I nod my head, giving her a small smile.

**

I'm really glad with how I'm writing this story.