"Tell me about yourself"
"Well, my name is Olivia, I am nineteen - turning twenty in September. I play the guitar and I am about to start my first year of college" The girl answers, mumbling and fiddling with her fingers, looking at everything but the woman's eyes. She felt highly uncomfortable.
"Why are you here Olivia?"
"Because they sent me here."
"Why did they send you here?"
"They say I have PTSD, or something."
"How do you feel about that? Them sending you here?"
"Uhm... I don't know. Haven't given it much thought really."
"Think about it now then."
"Well, maybe slightly upset? I don't know. Uncomfortable. Betrayed?"
"Why?"
"Because I don't like to be forced into something I don't want to. They said they would never do that. That they were different."
"Different from who Olivia?"
"From them."
"Who is them?"
She finally looked into the woman's eyes.
"My parents."
