The (Murder) Group

                 Grasping my skateboard i wrap my knuckles on the door. Was i supposed to knock? I hear shuffling feet, fuck i dont want to be here. The door opens just a slit, I see a tall man, middle aged, brown eyes, probably old enough to be my father, "Welcome are you here for the therapy session?"  I nod, because in dont know what else to do, all I know is i was drug out of bed at nine this morining and was told I was going to a "counsling" group to help me with my "depression", that i dont have, I just dont give a shit.

        Five other kids turn their heads as i walk in, five kids, ten eyes, all on me, i take a seat next to a girl wearing a grey hoodie, and matching sweats, accompanied by some nike slides. Across from me, a kid, correction hot kid about my age, wearing faded jeans, a black tee, and a  zip-up rag vest, "what the shit? where have you been all my life? finally get a hot chick in here hallelujah!" he rumbles. typical player. I flip him off, and he gets up from his seat, well fuck now im have to fight, sorry mama.  He walks right past me, thank god, and he heads to a table where he snatches a glass of lemonade. walking back passed me one last time he whispers "meet me by the old telephone booth and we'll talk." with a wink he sits back down. This makes my face hot, and gives me little ghost butterflies in my stomach, what the hell? this doesnt happen, get ahold of youself Bry, i tell myself. 

        Aperently everyone knows everyone, so it was all on me to tell my story, so i began,

        "Four years ago i was addmited with ovarian cancer, at twelve years of age, talk about some shitty pre-teen year right there. Anyway, we had gone through all sorts of cat scans, x-rays, and shit, soon enough the doctor told me there wasnt a way it could be cured right now, oh how dissapointing, not, now looking back on it i have no clue why I was so torn up about it, I can freely have sex, and not get prego, I wouldnt want to even bring a kid into this hell of a world, theres too much shit here to hurt and scar us. All in all i really dont give a shit about cancer, the only reason im here is because of my mother, she drug me out of bed this morning claiming Im depressed and I need help, but no I dont need help, theres nothing wrong with me emotionally, i really just dont care, havent for a long time, so there you have it my story, as y'all put it, happy?"

        Unexpectidly, everyone clapped, I shook my head and put my earbuds back in, i dont need this. I felt a light tap on my shoulder, it was the therapist guy, what was his name, oh yeah! Doctor Alex. He motioned to my earbuds, guess he wants me to actually listen, ugh, taking them out Alex goes on, "I'll see you all tomorrow for team building at ten o'clock sharp, dont be late" he winks at me, "Bryanne may I speak to you for a moment?"  Seeing i have made no friends to bale me out of this I walk over. "Whats up Doc.?" play it cool. " I'd really like you to pay attention during the sessions, I know your mother, and i supose you would be quite ungrateful if i told her youre just blowing this off, and wasteing her money, while she is trying to help you." I stood for a second, thinking, then said, "you dont know a God damned thing aobut me Doc.!" 

        I grabbed my board and sped out the last door, popping my head phones in and hoping on my wheels, anticipating no one would call after me, "Hey new girl!" shit, spoke too soon.