Mr. Fix It

"So how was your first day?" the doc asked me at my usual appointment after school.

"Not bad. I made a couple friends." I replied. I didn't want to be here. It's too boring. All I do is sit and talk about myself to this guy who thinks I'm insane.

"You look sad. Did something happen?" he asked with genuine interest.

"Nope, not really." I said. I was being a bit nonresponsive is all and he, just like me, must hate silence.

"Do you miss your old school?" he tried. Nice try, loser.

"Man, I was there for a total of one month. How badly could I honestly miss it?" I asked.

"Well aren't we in a bad mood." He mocked me. Yeah, doc, where'd you get your degree because last I checked they don't say mocking your patient is the best way to talk to them.

"I guess I miss someone from my old school. I mean, not the one I got arrested at. That school was worse in every way. I mean my junior high." I explained.

"Who?"

"This chick I really liked. And then today I met this chick that reminded me of her and she's really cool, but I don't know if she's like that or anything." I went into detail. Maybe mocking did actually work for crazy people!

"Ah." He said.

"Wanna talk in more than one sylable? I like conversations, ya know?" I joked.

"Ok, well, what would you like to talk about then?" He asked. That's more like it.

"Have you seen that new episode of House? I thought it was insane!" I joked. I knew we weren't supposed to talk about crap like that.

"Actually yeah, I thought it was great." He said. "But we're not here to talk about television and pop culture."

"It's medical stuff. You should be very interested in that kinda stuff!" I continued.

"It's fake medicine."

"But isn't fiction always best?" I asked.

"I don't think so. Elaborate." Oh great, he's trying to get me to be serious again.

"Well, in fictional worlds, the story is almost always a good ending. Good usually shines through the evil whether or not it wins. There's always a hint of hope in the fake worlds, like at the end of Fahrenheit 451." I explained. "But in reality, whenever you hope for something, something else always happens to knock you down. It's like some little kid always has to hide the pieces of the puzzle so you can't put everything together like it belongs. I mean, it's as if everything you do is actually just a wasted effort because in the end, nothing ever gets fixed."

"Hmmm... " he said and began writing on his phony clipboard. Damn, and I was hoping we'd become friends. "I want you to take this perscription to the front and they'll tell you when your medication will be delivered." He said to me. Medication?

"Whoa whoa whoa. Doesn't medication fuck people up more than fix them?" I asked honestly. "I mean, I used to take ADHD meds and once I stopped, I became better." I said.

"Girl, you tried to shoot up a high school. Is that really much better? And it's not to slow your brain or anything. I'm giving you this so you can have a better outlook on the world." He said.

I get it! He thinks I have depression! "I don't cry. I don't have depression. I think I'll be ok." I assured him.

"And I think you need to at least try this, ok?" He said and shoo-ed me out of his room. Great. Now it's legitiment that I'm crazy!