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Mentions of past suicide attempts in this chapter. If you're uncomfortable with it, you may not want to read this one.
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***
"Good morning, honey. How do you feel?"
Dead eyes looked up to the woman when she greeted the young boy. He sent her the fake smile he'd mastered giving her over the years, before he sat down across from her.
"I'm okay." He mumbled.
She smiled back, though she knew good and well that the boy had just lied to her.
"Alright, well why don't we get started on your session for today? As usual, I'll start with my normal question. Have you changed your mind about getting on some pills again?"
"I don't want anymore pills. They don't help me. Nothing has helped me." He mumbled back. "I'm at my happiest when I don't have to face anything. I'm happiest when I'm little."
"It's unhealthy to rely on a fake world to be happy, honey. You should really consider trying something. Maybe since the first prescription didn't work, this next one will?"
"I don't want anymore pills."
"But it probably won't have the same side effects."
"Probably." He repeated, glaring at her. "I don't want to take your pills off of a 'probably'. If you aren't certain these pills will keep me out of the hospital, then I don't need them. The only thing those pills you prescribed me ever brought was suicide attempts."
"But now you have so many friends to keep you fr--"
"It isn't my friend's responsibility to keep me from killing myself. And I won't force them to see me like this."
"That's deceptive."
"I don't care."
The therapist took in a deep sigh.
"If you don't want to listen to my advice, then why do you still come?"
"Because my parents pay so much money for me to live in Seoul just so I can get good therapy. I'm not going to fail them by refusing to come."
"You're failing them by refusing to get better, too."
"Anxiety isn't curable."
"No. It isn't. But it can be helped if we find you the right medicine." She said with a scoff.
"For the third and last time, I'm not taking anymore pills. I'm solely here as a formality. When I go home, I'm going to push every damn possible trigger I have to force myself back into little space. And there isn't anything you can do about it."
She sighed again.
"Fine. Then just answer some of my questions, then you can go. First of all, have you found anyone for little you to be safe with when you're little?"
"I'm letting little me choose. I have plenty of friends to protect me and care for me otherwise. I'm not worried about it."
She shook her head disapprovingly. "Your coping mechanism is very unhealthy."
"I don't care."
Her eyes flitted up to meet the boy's. "The least you could do is keep little you from doing all those terrible habits. How many times have you found the key to your apartment underneath your door mat for anyone to have taken now? And how many times have you lost your wallet to little you's incompetence? If you're going to do this to yourself, you should at least find yourself a proper caregi--"
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