Harry slumped across the couch in annoyance.
"How long do I have to be here?" His dark hair fell over his eyes, a brief flick of his head moved the bristles out of the green shine.
"As long as you need," Her blue eyes matched his. "How has the medicine been working, Harry?"
"It makes me dizzy,"
"That will go away in time."
His eyes grew hard and cold against hers. A pressure against her own that she recognized and shut down immediately.
"You said that about the stomach aches," Harry said with a frown.
"I did,"
"And the headaches," Harry stated.
"I sense hostility, Harry."
"Do you?" A tightness in his throat formed and he had to swallow his anger.
"The side effects will cease in time, just keep taking the medicine."
"What if they don't?"
"Then we will try new ones,"
"What if those don't work?"
She sat back against her chair. The scratching of pen across paper made Harry's eyes go blurry. He hated hearing that sound, it meant more medicines.
"Have you been having a lot of anxiety about your medications Harry?" She asked, her voice unchanging. "It's not good to be anxious."
"No," Harry said softly, "No I havent."
"It sounds to me like you have."
There it was. The nail in the coffin. Harry was on a new medication. The young boy sighed heavily and watched her red nails tap softly against the arm of her chair. She smiled softly and sat forward.
"I'd like to start a new prescription to ease your worries,"
"I worry about the medication so you put me on more pills,"
"That's how therapy works, Harry."
