ʜ ᴏ ʟ ʏ

21.

"Marceline." Spoke the unyielding voice, followed by the nimble snaps of her finger. Collecting herself from her zone out, Marceline looked up from the window in which she stared and faced her counselor. It was a beautiful day outside, far to pretty to describe with words so she let her eyes do the talking. Little to nothing of clouds flecked the picture blue sky, the sun glistened a florescent glaze of yellow over the recovering brittle glass, and mellow warm weather fitted the scenery. To good of a day to be fighting. But she Didn't let her words consume her, doing as told and facing her counselor who stared down as if waiting for her attention. She wasn't sorry. "Marceline, you have gone through multiple counselors here since saint Annes and we haven't made any progress from you at all. We only wish to help you here but you don't budge when it comes to sharing information." It was true. At the school, they only had what they were given, which was the informatiom sheet filled out by her father when applying her to the school. All parents who enrolled their children had to fill out information regarding their childrens background information and some trauma included in their life if any. Marceline's father forked over a list which consisted of deceased mother, lack of friends, and few bits of trauma from her childhood. Marceline was a quite sad that her father ceased to acknowldge his absence in her life. He was there mentally, but not physically. He made up most of her anguish. "The principle has taken notice to your case." Her words averted her thinking once more. That definitely wasn't good. The woman wet her parched lips with the tip of her tounge before continuing. "If no progress in shown, you will be transferred down to Saint Judith's Institute with the permission of your father." This wasn't a great way to start her day. If Saint Anne's was bad, The Institute of Saint Judiths couldn't even be put into words. Monitored every hour of the day from dawn to dusk, more continuous conversion, and a endless day of bordem that could bring one to madness. That wasn't even the thought that was keeping her back. Sure she could handle it, Marceline had came up from a relatively rough neighborhood where basically everything went down, no, that was the last of her worries. Leaving Bonnibel behind would affect her more than anything. She's was all she had. "Fine." She beckoned, a pleasant smile forming the face of counselor. It was silent while she pulled the 3 year old conflict sheet from the vanilla filing folder and set it across the table, removing the paper which held her conflicts. Her mother was at the top of the list, lack of friends second, and few listed instances. "Now, from the three years you've attended here, we hadn't got much from you regarding the passing of your mother." She was right. She didn't dare speak a word of her life giver, only bits and parts of what they wanted to hear. She couldn't say her name, it felt almost wrong rolling off the tounge of a heaven. What would her mother think? She quickly shuddered the thoughts away. She looked up from the floor and faced her counselor. "What would you like to know?" She questioned, emotions wavering in her tone. "Anything you can give me on her and how her death affected you." She ushered her onward with her gaze. "She was nice... Sweet.. Everything a kid could want in a mother. I wish I would've never taken the little things for granted as I did. The small naps, the lullabies she sung, just being around her. I was 6 when she died... I was to little to understand, all I knew was she was gone, and wasn't coming back.. From then on it was just me.. And my father." She refrained from excluding her father. It was really just her, a little girl struggling through the passing of her mother with a father she hardly saw or looked up to. The teacher seemed to eat up her words, her fingers vigorously scribbling acoross the conflict sheet. There wasn't much but with the way she wrote, the page was bound to fill to the brim. Marceline didnt feel like talking anymore. The air was so thick with tension it could be sliced with a knife. She stared down her teacher through the wims of the hair that clouded her face. "May I be dismissed?" Marceline practically begged. The woman didn't look up from her paper, examining it with new eyes. "With the progress we've made today, go right along." Marcy was up and out of her seat faster than a rodent scurrying across the rode, halting at the door upon her name being called. "Bring along the same motivation next session." She nodded at her counselor, departing from the room. Surprisingly, the girl wasn't headed to retrieve Bonnibel, her destination resided within a place long not visited.