Mrs. Weldon

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I sat in a small office, which contained a desk filled with papers and two chairs, one of which I sat in eating my lunch. I saw the woman studying me behind her desk through the corner of my eyes. I looked up at her my eyes glaring "can I help you?" I asked irritated. She lightly smiled at me. "How are you Maya?"
"Good, when can I leave?"
"Well you only just got here, typically patients stay from 3 days to a week. I'm your therapists Mrs. Weldon I'll be meeting with you once a day as we work on how help you for when you leave. What happened that got you here?"
I rolled my eyes "none of your business"
She looked down at her papers saying "it says here that you over dosed. Why is that?"
I coldly replied "I didn't want to live, it was to much work."
She looked up at me concerned "what was?"
"Going everyday knowing your a disappointment, that you mean nothing. No one cares." My eyes averted to the floor feeling uncomfortable.
"I'm sure that's not true, do you have a support system? Friends? Family?"
"No"
"Well I guess we'll have to work on that."
"Maybe" I muttered.
"I see that your very defensive of your self. Do you open up at all? Express your feelings?
"I sing" I said still looking at the group.
"Well we do have a good music therapy program here, will you try opening up through music if you won't open up to me?"
"Maybe."

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