Sitting in the waiting area, I listen to my aunt talk to the reseptionist at the desk. She comes back with some papers to fill out about me. Of course, she'll end up writing down false things just because she thinks she knows me.

No, I'm not sick. I'm just seeing a psyichiatrist because I disturb my teachers, classmates, and aunt. And how I disturb them you may ask? I'm an artist and I love to draw. I always tend to be drawing about people getting killed, tortured, or already dead. They do range slightly from that but I keep creating strange pictures that frighten others. My aunt Tracey was the one noticfied of my imagination and she started making me see many psyichiatrists.

The scratching of the pen almost lulls me to my memory of seeing the many psychiactrists I've visited. They all said the same thing: I'm going through a phase.

I've recieved the speech so many times I'm expecting each specialist to say so. It grows so old even after the first or second time. I already hear enough of the saying from my aunt Tracey. But, she doesn't know me as well as she believes. It's better that way because she keeps gossiping to her friends about my ways.

I'm a little weird. I'll admit that any day. But, it's not fair that people get sexist with me just because I was about 12 or 13 when this started. You have to admit, if a boy drew about killing people no one would care because it seems sort of normal for guys to do that. If a girl draws that, however, people go nuts because they're supose to draw smiley faces and hearts everywhere on their desk or paper. Face it, people are sexist with this type of thing.

Aunt Tracey gets up and gives the receptionist the papers.

"We'll call the both of you in a moment."

"Who's the doctor?" Aunt Tracey asked, "Are they good?"

"He's the best we've got. I wouldn't worry about anything." Great. My first time seeing a male doctor. This should be interesting. I've never really seen male psychistrists because Aunt Tracey thought they would be perverts or something. My aunt is very weird, I know.

She came back to her seat beside me and saw the look on my face.

"Don't you dare start pouting now. This is the best psychistrist I'm having you see and you are not going to screw it up."

"Oh, what could I ever do to mess things up at a psychiatrist office?" I say sarcastically.

"I mean, don't go on about your meaningless crap about that you'll always draw those stupid pictures of yours."

"They're not stupid. They're pieces of art that can never ba appreciated by the likes of you."

"Watch that mouth or I'll force you to take that medicine again." I was on antidepressants once but stopped taking them because they made me feel so great. But, that's only half of the story that I can't tell Aunt Tracey. She wouldn'y ever get it.

"Nicole Alkins, Dr. Lector would like to see you now." My aunt and I get up and head down the hall toward the door with Dr. Lector's name on it. We enter and sit doen on the couch near his desk.

The room was very clean and had so many books lined up on a shelf on the wall. He wasn't a child psychiatrist since there weren't any toys or thing for a child to play with. But, I wasn't a child anymore. I had recently turned 18 but I had no place to stay but with my aunt. If I could, I'd move out of her house since she never has anything good to say or do to me.

The door opened and in walks a man that reminds me of Red Foreman from That '70s Show. Okay, so I may draw crazy shit but it doesn't mean I can't enjoy a good comedy every once in awhile. The man sits down at the desk and looks through the paper work that was given to him. He seemed quite professional and stayed quiet until he read all the paperwork. He looked up at us when he finished reading.

"Ms. Jarvis, how long did it take you to finish this paper work?"

"About 10 minutes. Why?"

"You never went over the questions with Miss Alkins?"

"Oh, please excuse me but my niece and I have seen many psychiatrists and I've been having to answer the same questions. I honestly think we wouldn't need to be here if it weren't for her rebelios aditude."

"Explain to me why you need to see so many psychiartists." Oh boy, here we go.

"I adopted Nicole when she was 11. Her parents died in a horrible accident and I was the only living family member left to take care of her. She started getting awfully depressed so I took her to a couselor and they put her on antidepressants. She stopped taking them because...why exactly?" She looked over at me with an annoyed expression. I sighed before giving my answer.

"I stopped taking them because they made me feel good." Dr. Lector wrok some things down as my aunt continued.

"Well, then she started drawing these disturbing pictures and her teachers were scared she would attempt to kill someone. So, I brought her to many theropists and specialists but she refuses to take her pills or do what they say. And now, here we are." Dr. Lector nodded as she finished, writing down the last piece of information from her.

"Honestly, Dr. Lector, I think Nicole's just going through a phase."

"Well, it's a long ass phase then," I muttered. She smacked my arm and told me to apoligize. I did so and sunk further into the couch.

"Ms. Jarvis, does Nicole do anything to act out or cause attention to herself?"

"Besides her drawings? She likes to talk back to people." I stayed quiet in my seat. I don't talk back to people, I talk back to her. I don't like having all the attention on me. I show my drawings because I like to scare people. Tracey doesn't know the whole truth about me.

"Okay, does she have any pets?"

"She use to have a hamster but it died after several months."

"What did it die from?" Great, he's asking if I killed it. Wondering if I'm going to be a murderer some day, Dr. Lector?

"My cat got into her room and killed it. Nicole was supose to keep her door closed when she wasn't home." Yeah, blame me for keeping it cracked when the door's too hard for that stupid cat to open.

"All right, anything else you'd like to explain?"

"Can you tell me if she needs to be out on medication or something? I really think that could help."

"We'll see. I'd like for Miss Alkins to bring her drawings over next time. Would next Thursday be okay with the both of you?"

"Yes sir. We can surely do that."

"It was nice talking to you Ms. Jarvis. Next time, though, I'd like to hear Miss Alkins' thoughts on this." Of course, the only thoughts going through my aunt's mind is that I'm full of complete bull shit and that I don't deserve my side of the story. It's like court or murder. As long as she gets to say whatever she believes is right, I have no say or I'm wrong.

We schedule another meeting with Dr. Lector and leave. I'm a little excited that I get to show him what goes on through my brain.