Authors note: This came to me one night when I was trying to fall asleep without my sleeping pills(not the greatest plan). With a little bit of encouragement from one of the greatest Addams Family writers ever, Child of a Broken Dawn, I decided to write it. So here it is.

The story is going to be entirely in the psychiatrist's POV. Almost everything italicized is Dr. Jones' notes about Wednesday's behavior.

Yay! I own Dr. Jones(no, not the Harrison Ford Dr. Jones). Sadly, I don't own his patient or the rest of her family.

When I first became a child psychiatrist, I swore to myself that there would be no case I couldn't handle. This remained true for nearly twenty-five years. I dealt with kids with depression, kids with anger management problems, abuse cases, and the occasional terminally ill kid in need of counseling. I'd been punched in the face six times, four times been kicked in the shin, twice had my life threatened, and once been stabbed in the arm with a pen. These incidents didn't stop me, in fact, they made me stronger. So of course I accepted when one of the local public schools asked me to take on the case of one of their sixth graders.

Apparently, the day before they called me, the girl attempted suicide. She had been put on twenty-four hour watch at the hospital before she was released to her parents. She claimed she wasn't going to try to kill herself again but the school had noticed she'd had social problems before, so they called me and requested that I see her every day after school for a few weeks. That had been a week ago.

Now, I sat at my desk awaiting my new patient's arrival. I glanced down at my watch. 3:25. The girl would be arriving any minute. I picked up the gold-plated name plaque off my desk. Dr. Stuart Jones Ph.D. It had taken me twelve years of college to get where I was. I'd helped so many children since then. I'd even let my personal life take a few hits in the process. It had all been worth it though. I sighed and put the plaque back on my desk.

Just after I set it down, my office door opened. In stepped an unhappy looking, incredibly pale girl wearing an old-fashioned black dress and had her matching hair in tight braids. This was most definitely my patient.

"Hello. You must be Wednesday." I greeted her warmly with a smile. She scowled back at me before setting down a leather messenger bag and sitting in one of the arm chairs at the side of the room. I quickly picked up my favorite pen and worn out notepad. If there's one thing I'd learned over the years, it's that the sooner you get to analyzing a patient, the sooner you can find ways to relate to them.

She sat with posture a concert pianist would be jealous of, but seemed incredibly uncomfortable. Very tense and uncomfortable. Trust issues? She stared straight ahead out the window. Without looking at me she said in an emotionless voice,

"I'm going to say right now that despite what everyone at the my asinine school says, I did not try to kill myself. I also cannot be forced to talk to you, so I won't." she then reached into her bag and pulled out a book. Refuses to admit she attempted suicide. Very closed off.

She read her book and never so much as glanced up at me for almost the entire session. I managed to catch the title of the book, The Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe. Interesting choice of literature for a twelve year old. If I remember correctly, Poe is pretty famous for his macabre writing style. Perhaps it's where she got the idea of suicide into her head? If anything, it is a clear indication of intelligence. Just as our time ran out, she closed her book and put it back in her bag.

"Are we really going to have to do this again tomorrow?" She asked.

"Yes Wednesday." I replied to her with a touch of sympathy in my voice. If she felt that I truly understood her pain, she would feel more comfortable with talking to me about her deepest thoughts.

"Then I suggest you do your reading. I'm sure my hospital records will tell you a few of my dirty secrets. But just so know, your tactics to get me to trust you are not working." with that, she turned her back to me and strode out of my office without another word.

I sighed and looked down at my notes. I didn't manage to get much considering she had barely spoken to me, but I figured I was off to a good start. I also figured that Wednesday was right. Maybe her hospital records would tell me something.

I know it's kind of short. This is mostly an introduction to the rest of the story. I'd love to hear your opinions on it so far so review! Constructive criticism is welcome.