Grey.

3.

Chapter 3

Present day, ... August

The soon to be fleeting summer sun gently caresses my skin while I walk along main street. As much as this should bring me unwavering joy, it doesn't. The only reason I'm walking along this crowded boulevard is to go to my first therapy session; how fitting. A quiet and reserved girl with parental issues and an immense lack of sociability goes to therapy? – No way. I quietly scoff to myself as I find a hidden entrance to the center and walk in. A cold chill embraces me, a characteristic that institutions like this harbor; a bitter cold to keep the 'patients' awake. I don't believe this chill does a very good job at that though, considering the enumerable amount of stressed-looking old people lining the hallways snoozing silently. I find it slightly endearing because I love old people, and they remind me of my grandpa, but it's still a bit odd nonetheless.

Amid my thoughts I fumble with a small business card in my hands that reads;

Doctor Birmingham PhD. Room 105

I aimlessly search for the room, keeping my head down, avoiding eye-contact at all costs. If my mother has taught me anything, its to fear looking into people's eyes. Not to fear that anyone will hurt me in that way, but just to fear the disappointed gazes that I have become accustomed to in her lovely presence. While looking down at the card I stumble forward and in a heap of the moment, crash into a tall shaggy haired boy. It happens so quickly, and my eyes grow wide.

"I am so sorry, are you alright?" He asks in a peculiar accent.

I nod my head at him slowly and flash a subtle smile. He offers his hand to help me up but I deny it, I can stand up on my own. I notice the card missing from my hand and the panic rises inside me. Looking around hastily I can't see it anywhere until he speaks again.

"Are you looking for this?" He asks kindly, and I nod my head at him once more.

"I'm a friend of Dr. Birmingham's if you want me to take you to her room."

While I appreciate his kindness, I am too over-stimulated to speak so I just shrug at him.

"Well out of respect, I will take that as a no – but to help out, her room is just down the hallway left of the water fountain." He smiles a genuine smile and places the card in my hands ever-so-gently.

"Uh – Thank, thank you." I mumble and he nods his head, walking past me and leaving the building.

I take a moment to catch my breath and continue my walk to Dr. Birmingham's office. When I make it next to the water fountain where he said, I trace my fingers along her plaque on the wall and weakly knock on her door.

"Quinzel Michaud?" She asks with a soft glow about her.

"Yes, ... Are you Dr. Birmingham?"

"I am as a matter of fact, and you can call me Cindy if you'd feel more comfortable with that." She states politely.

"Yeah, that's nice." I say and walk through the open door.

Her office is decorated with an arrangement of light purples and deep greens; comfort colors in my eyes. It reminds me of soft lavender fields and sweet-smelling lilacs. Which I'm appreciative of because both lavender and lilacs are my favorite flowers.

"I like your office." I say in a dull tone, though I mean it sincerely.

"Thank you, friend, I appreciate that. I just re-did it a few-days ago and you're the first one to comment." She says proudly

I nod my head, not knowing what to say in response.

"So, first-off, we have to talk a few technical things. I have a couple questions to ask you, and just answer them as honestly as you can alright?"