How To Save A Life

Chapter 1

"Do you think Dr. Doneau will be upset about Friday?" Mavis asks me nervously as we walk into the doctor's office.

"Um, no? What happened Friday?" I ask, trying to think back to last Friday.

"You know, when I let the phone ring because I was too scared to answer it."

"No, I do not think your doctor will be upset with you for not answering the phone. The person calling was just trying to sell us insurance anway. It wouldn't have been an immersive or even useful conversation. Also, I don't know how he would find out about it unless you tell him." I reply warily. This is the kind of stuff I have to deal with everyday.

"Well if he asks I have to tell him. I can't lie to him or I'll never get better." She says, sounding like the doctor himself.

"Mavis, you know you can't get better. You just have to learn how to live with it. Pretending that you can somehow get cured isn't helping you, it's hurting you." I tell her as we walk into the waiting room for the doctor's office.

"But my doctor said-"

"I don't care what your doctor said. You and I both know this is just how you are and that isn't changing. Now go see Donny, I'll see you later." I say, cutting her off in the middle of her sentence.

"You know he hates it when you call him that."

"And you know I don't care."

She shoots me an annoyed look and heads into Doneau's office. I look around the waiting room to see if anyone witnessed our little banter and see a boy smiling at me knowingly. He also looks sort of smug, what a prick. He can tell I'm looking at him and points to the seat next to him. Well if I'm trying to find Mavis a boyfriend then I guess I have to start somewhere.

I sit down next to him and immediately start gaging on the five bottles of cologne he's wearing. Despite the excess cologne use, his brown hair, relatively attractive features, and warm honey colored eyes make him seem like a good option for my sister. She's the type of girl who thinks that even though she only showers once every two weeks she still gets the hottest guy in town. That's because she did back in high school, she was popular then. She showed signs of an anxiety disorder through high school, but it didn't really tak over her life until she went off to college. She only made it two weeks in college before she broke down and came home.

"So what's your friend in here for?" The boy asks me, interupting my thoughts.

"She's my sister and severe social anxiety."

"No way, your sister? You don't look anything alike. She's so hot and you're-"

"So not? Thanks. You're pretty ugly yourself." Lie, that's a lie. I dig hand sanitizer out of my bag and use it quickly.

"No I'm not and that's not what I was going to say. I was going to say you're so young. You look twelve and she looks twenty five." He smirks.

"I'm sixteen. She's twenty one."

"And I'm twenty. That still doesn't explain why you look like a child."

"You're really rude. Is that why you're here? Do you have a personality disorder that makes you insensitive to other peoples feelings?"

"Excuse me? That was rude. I don't have any mental illnesses. I am here for my best friend."

"That's really sweet. I wish Mavis had a best friend to take care of her. So what's his? Her? What's their illness?"

"It's a him. His name is Sean and he has PTSD."

"Sean. That's a nice name. My sisters name is Mavis, if you didn't gather that already."

"What kind of name is Mavis?"

"I don't know. A good one? I happen to like it. But, we usually call her Mazie. I may be a fan of the name, but she definitely isn't."

"So then what's your name? I suppose you're a huge fan of that too?"

"Yes I am a big fan of it. My name is Juniper."

"Juniper? That's even worse than Mavis. Do your parents hate you?"

"Yes. I suspect your name is incredibly average then?"

"Scott."

"Damn. That is incredibly average. Well you're no fun."

"Hey, my name does not define me. Contrary to you assumptions, I am a very fun guy."

"Oh yeah? I bet you are." I reply sarcastically.

"At least I'm not named after a tree." He fires back.

"There's nothing wrong with being named after a tree."

"Yeah, and there's nothing wrong with having a common name either. Many successful people are named Scott." 

"Oh really? Name one."

"Hey Scott, who is this?" A tall blonde guy walks in to the waiting room, interrupting us before Scott got the chance to answer me.

"This is Juniper. Juniper this is the Sean I've been telling you all about." Scott says, introducing us.

"He hasn't really been telling me all about you. He just told me you're a nut with PTSD." I tell Sean.

"A nut? He called me a nut?"

"No, I called you a nut."

"What gives you the right to call me a nut? Isn't that a little insensitive?" Sean says, looking slightly offended.

"My sister is a nut. I'm half a nut. Us nuts have to stick together,"

"You're half a nut?" Sean asks.

"Ya know, OCD but not to a length where it becomes a real problem. I just have to wash my hands every three hours or I get a little anxious." That's sort of the truth. "I'm not on my sister's level though. That girl has some real anxiety issues"

"All the perks of a mental illness with none of the set backs. You're a lucky one." Sean tells me.

"What perks? I see no perks." I ask, slightly confused.

"You get to tease other mentally unstable people and they can't even be mad because you're in the same boat they are." Sean stated simply.

"Oh yay. The one perk of being a nut. Maybe it's just me, but I'd say the cons outweigh the pros." I reply.

"Okay, I'm with you on that. What's your sister's name?" Sean asked.

"Mavis. And if you make any comment about it being weird I might hurt you so don't say a word." I threaten.

"It's really a great name. I'd love to stay and meet this Mavis, but Scott and I have to be somewhere. Maybe we'll see you around here again sometime." Sean tells me.

"Yeah see you around. Good luck with your PTSD." I say as I wave goodbye to them.