It had been a long argument with Mom and Dad. But, eventually, parents had won as they usually did with most kids.

Now Sara found herself waiting in the doctor's office. There was a 'tic...tic...ticking' of the clock in the small, confined waiting room. Also in the cramped room were several other parents waiting patiently with their kids.

Sara brooded sulkily the whole time on the way. That said, she wasn't scared. Stupid parents. Stupid doctor. What could they do about her? Nothing.

She finally deigned to glance at her parents.

Mom was busy reading a magazine That she got from the office that was called Vogue.  But dad returned Sara’s glance with a sheepish look.

“What? This is probably for your own good. Look, go see the doctor and they listen better and then everything will be all right. It’s like… Oh shit, who the hell am I kidding?

Sara gives him a knowing look and nods along in silence. Well, at least he wasn't pretending otherwise.

Short woman that was someone fat in the squad walked into the waiting room. She had permed hair that was bunched up in a scrunchy. Scrunchie was a neon pink color and made her hair appear like it was worn in the latest fashion Sarah had seen on MTV. Then she took out the clipboard and look down at it through our large glasses. She called out Sarah’s name like most people do when they want patients to come in to the back and letting them know the doctor was ready to see them.

Sara gave her parents another sour look, then walked silently towards the doctor's door.

The hallway was Stark and clinical. It lacked any color except for Gray. On the walls, Sara Could see the pictures of various still life photographs. One was a beautiful yellow flower blossoming in the middle of Green field. Further still down the hall, and photographs took on a strange modernist quality as Sara Followed the woman with the glasses towards the last room on the left.

Inside the room they were two chairs. They were large rotund things, Covered with shiny Corinthian leather that was the color red. Next to one of them was a small clock. It ticked With the constant boring drum of a metronome that might’ve been used for a kid practicing piano. The woman told Sarah to sit down and one of the chairs and wait for the doctor.

Sara sat down and yawned, watching the clock with disinterest. "How long?" she asked, finally breaking her vow of silence.

The woman gave a careful and seemingly sincere explanation to Sara about how Sara only had to wait a few more minutes. Then she offered Sara a chocolate chip cookie.

The cookie was right next to Sara on the end table next to the chair. It had exactly 6 chocolate chips in it and was larger than the chocolate chips that most kids got at schools that she used to go to. She was alone now, and the solitude allowed Sara to notice the faint smell of cleanliness that filled the office. It smelled like freshly cleaned linen.

Suddenly there was a slight ‘snick’of a door opening. A man with glasses and a clip board walked into the room and seated himself in the red, leather chair opposite of Sara.

“Hello Sara. I’m Doctor Wolfwitz” he said, though he wasn’t dressed like a Doctor. He didn’t have a long white robe and instead sported a plaid shirt and loose fitting, business casual pants.

Having helped herself to a cookie earlier, Sara sniffed the air, then examined the doctor skeptically. "Hello," she muttered reluctantly.

The doctor raised an eyebrow.

“Let me guess. You don’t wanna be here do you?”

She craned her head to look him in the eye. "Good guess."

The Doctor put his paper clip board down. Then he shrugged his shoulders and gave a little laugh. It was a light chuckle.

"I don't really want to be here either." he said, and it came out like a kind of confession.

"What should we do about it?" He said. Sara caught him looking over at the clock that was tic-tic-ticking away.

"Sara's you're name right?" He said, and it came out rhetorically. "I mean, I'm supposed to talk to you for a full hour. And hour. That's a long time. I already had three kids to talk to before you. And one of them threw a 'snowball' at me. Do you know what a we call a 'snowball?' " he asked, and it came out like the work had some special significance that wasn't a medical term but perhaps a term spoken around the office as a joke.

Sara's gaze followed the doctor's eyes to the clock, then returned to the doctor himself. She felt like he was trying to trick her somehow, but... It was working, dammit. "What?" she asked.

The Doctor met Sara’s gaze with a deadpan, almost unnerving stare. Gone was the chuckle.

“I said, what should we do? We have all this time. People are expecting us to fill it.”

He put the clipboard down. Picked it back up. Then put it down again.

Sara frowns. Why are adults so dumb? This one seemed smarter - is he playing dumb to annoy her? "I mean, what do you call a snowball?"

Dr. Wolfwitz leaned forward and into Sara's personal space. He dropped his voice down a few octaves as he stared down at Sara from those glasses and spoke in a hushed tone.

"A snowball....is when a prisoner mixes piss...and shit...and blood" he said, eyes suddenly glowing with feverish excitement. The words piss, shit and blood were all emphasized. "...and then they roll it up into a ball. And they throw it at one of the staff..." He said.

Then just like that he leaned back into his chair and picked up the clip board. He stared down at it as if decided if he wanted to write something, clearly decided not to and put the clipboard back down again.

Sara was not intimidated by the looming, but a bit shocked by his words. Or maybe just his tone... It seemed almost as though she was back in a dream. Just in case, she looked around to see if there were any scary clowns or stuffed animals about. "That's gross," she muttered, cringing as she did so.

There was nothing that would indicate to Sara that this was a dream, but rather a strange encounter with an adult.

"I know." Dr. Wolfitz said. "That's what I thought." He adjusted his spectacles. "Do you mind if I make myself a drink. If we have to sit here a while.."

"Sure," Sara shrugged, before cringing again, unable to get the image out of her mind now. "You have to do it, huh. So what's the point?"

"So, why are you here? I mean, I know what your Mom says." the doctor said. "But I mean here. I can tell from your accent your not from LA. So what are you doing here."

Sara heard the clink of glass as the decanter poured out some strong smelling spirit.

Sara cringed at the smell. "We moved here from Canada," she informed him. "Because of her. She's in movies." There was no way to say that without sounding even slightly proud of that fact. But she tried. Who cares about mom's stupid movies? "I'm just so bored," she admitted.

Dr. Wolfwitz didn't anything one way or another about how he was feeling regarding what Sara said. It appeared he was just listening. There was a gentle 'clink' of the glass as he set the decanter down.

"Well, at least no one is throwing a snowball at you. That's a good thing. You think you'll do movies at some point? Just like Mom?" He asked. Then he sat down with the glass in his hand and crossed his legs.

"Nah..." Sara muttered. Somehow, she never thought of it. Not seriously. "It sounds boring. You just have to do what they tell you, right?"

The Doctor looked up at the ceiling for a moment, as if considering what Sara said and mulling over the theme of acting. Then he took a small sip of the apple juice-colored liquid in his glass. Sara could smell the strong spirits on his breath as he spoke:

“Yeah probably...maybe, I don’t know. People think we have all of the answers. I’m talking about doctors like me when I say that. But the reality is that we are more like people who fix your house or your plumbing. We try something different and hope it works. Then we try something else and if that doesn’t work we keep tinkering with combinations hoping we get it right. So, I guess I’ve had enough patients that are actors or have their kids in acting and I’ve heard enough of their stories to agree with you: it does sound boring. But each house is different and each person is different. And believe it or not a lot of actors and actresses are stuck in movies and they hate their jobs. Most people don’t think of that.”

"Do you hate your job?" Sara asked, scanning the room for nothing in particular.

"No." Dr. Wolfwitz said, almost defensively. "I just wish that I could actually talk to some of these people. You know? Cure them. Of all of the problems they have. I wish sometimes they would open up. That they would see me as someone who is trying to help. Maybe see me as trying to tinker them for the good instead of for the bad. But some people just won't let me in."

He took another sip from his glass.

"And there's nothing I can do about that. That's the hard part. No doctor can force someone to open up to them. And that goes double for a doctor like me who isn't doing any surgery."

Sara smirked at that last aside. "Yeah, I bet. But it's not like I'm sick, though. Am I?"

"I don't know. You don't seem sick. I could run a couple of tests. Actually, its more like you taking some paper tests and then me asking questions. But really, these tests aren't like math tests. They don't say one way or another a specific problem."

"They point towards certain directions." He took another sip of the foul smelling spirit. Sara saw his Adam's apple bob once as he swallowed.

"But everyone wants a specific diagnosis. They want 2+2 to equal 4. They want things to be simple. And people aren't simple."

"And kids aren't simple." He took one more sip.

"Do you think think kids are simple?" He asked, as if Sara might have a new, or hands-on knowledge.

"Some of them are," Sara muttered. She didn't really get what he meant, though. "I mean... either someone's crazy or not, right? Or..." she frowned, thinking. Somehow he got her curious.

"I mean, if you're running around in a chicken suit claiming that aliens took you then yeah. But the in the real world, it usually doesn't look like that."

He opened the drawer of the small dresser, took out a pack of cigarettes.

"As much as I talk to kids, I'm really not in their world. I mean, I talk to more kids than most adults, but things change and for most adults things were very different when they were kids. Also, when you grow up, you forget about what its even like to be a kid." He confessed.

Sara listened, unsure whether he was finished or not. Then again, even if he was, she wasn't really sure what to add... Sitting quietly wasn't in her nature, though. "Well, not like I know what it's like to be an adult. So I can't compare either."

The girl paused, then leaned forward slightly in her chair. "Are adults simple? Sometimes it seems like they only care about money or whatever. And sometimes not..." she added quietly, before looking up at the doctor. "Hey, why do you think my parents brought me here, anyway?" she rubbed her chin in thought. "Dad doesn't think it'd do any good. And mom isn't around much, so why would she care all of a sudden?"

"Adults, simple? What's your guess? I'd actually like to hear what you think before I answer. You bring a different point of view." The doctor countered.

Sara frowned in annoyance, but leaned back in her chair and tried to think it through. "I guess they're not simple either. They just seem that way..." she sighed, tapping her chin. "This was my mom's idea. Maybe she's worried I'll get her in trouble if you don't fix me somehow. Maybe she just doesn't know what to do about me, but keeps trying stuff to see if it works?" she looked at Dr. Wolfwitz, trying to see what he thought.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:36, Tue 21 Jan 2020.

“ Yes.” Dr. Wolfwitz confirmed. “This was your mothers idea. But the question is, do you need fixing. If you can answer that question honestly, then it would save us both a lot of time. If the answer is yes, then we can get started on some fixing depending on what you need. If the answer is no, then I guess we have to do some other stuff, Just to fill the time.”

Sara sighed and looked away. Of course the answer was no. Right? She didn't need to be fixed. She wasn't broken. Maybe her mom and her teachers thought differently, but what did she care? She was happy the way she was. The only thing that worried her was that maybe they would try and do something to her anyway. She wasn't very clear on what, but the possibility hung over her all the same.

The delinquent looked back at the doctor... but rather than answer him, she asked a question: "Are monsters simple?"

"Monsters?" Dr. Wolfwitz asked. He paused for a second and looked up at the ceiling as if to consider, or as if the answer might be found up there. Then he took another sip from the glass, this time downing the rest of it.

He got up from the chair and made his way over to the decanter, started pouring himself another drink.

"By Monster, do you mean, the kind of person that becomes a monster? Like a really bad person who acts like a monster? Or do you mean the type of monster that is supernatural? Like in a movie?" He asked, back now facing Sara as he poured the drink into the glass.

"Like, uh..." Sara scratched her head, frowning in thought. Wait, she thought. Maybe it's better not to spill all of the beans. He'd just think I'm a crazy kind of crazy, and then they'd put me in a straightjacket or something.

"Like the people," the young girl clarified. "Are they crazy? The simple kind of crazy. Or... something else? I mean if they're acting like they're monsters, why do they do that?"

"Some have mental problems." The doctor took his index finger and swirled it around in a circular motion to signify 'crazy.'

"But other people are born, well, just....kind of like monsters. Or, maybe its better to say that they have the potential to be monsters, but then they had families that didn't give them enough love or structure. And the combination of how they were born and their family life kind of makes them into....well...monstrous."

"Why? You know anyone like that?"

Sara falls silent, thinking it over. Does she? "...Maybe," she admits slowly. "I don't know. How can you tell if someone has... potential?"

The Doctor moved his head to the side and then down the entire drink.

"Potential" He said, placing the glass on the table. "That's a heavy question." He admitted.

"Potential is something that you have to go notice. The way that you can tell that someone is looking at you, without actually seeing them. Its something that you feel."

"Do you understand?"

"I mean, most parents send their kids to me because they want to make sure that their kids live up to their potential."

"But you can't measure someone's potential. You really can't do that as a doctor. So what I do is try to find the things that influence them that are taking them away from goals. If a kid doesn't have a goal, then I show them the things that could be taking away from the goals that make them work in society."

He sighed. "This is a heavy conversation. I usually don't have conversations like this with all my patients, all of my kids. Are you getting this? Are we OK? You're still with me, right?"

Sara blinked, confused. "I'm still here," she assured the doctor. Just how drunk was he by now? This wasn't what she asked about at all. Still, he said they needed to fill the time, and she agred with that much. Not like she could just tell him what she wanted to be... "So what do you mean by goals?"

"Well" the Doctor said, pausing. "What is it, that you want to do?" he asked. Then he cleared his throat and stated the question in a different way.

"What is it, that Sara wants?"

Sara opened her mouth, then closed it. "What if Sara doesn't know?" she asked a moment later. "Is that something she's supposed to know already?"

“No. Sara doesn’t have to know. Sara just needs to be interested in finding out. In life, if people don’t know what they want, then other people usually decide for them.”

Sara sighed. The doctor's words sounded right... even though she didn't want to think about any of this at all. She wanted to be a monster, but... could she? Maybe she was doomed to become a boring adult instead, thinking boring adult thoughts and living a boring adult life. She looked for a way out. "Usually?"

“Usually?” Dr. Wolfwitz repeated, as if not fully understanding.

"You said other people usually get to decide."

“Usually as in, that’s what happens, if you just... let other people decide. I mean most kids should or do let other people decide. Unless they don’t trust those people. Do you trust your point stents?”

Sara frowns. "...My who?"

"You're point stents." The doctor repeated. "You know, its another word for parents."

"Oh," Sara said, adding, after a short pause: "Not really."

Dr. Wolfwitz leaned forward at the edge of his chair and said

"OK, Well. You not going to believe this. I know I can't. But our time is up. Can you believe it? It's been hour. Honestly, its been a pleasure talking to you. That's 'adult talk' for saying that I enjoyed our time together."

"Do you think you'll come back?" He asked.

"Don't answer that now. Think it over. Maybe talk to your parents."

He was right, Sara couldn't believe it. But she wasn't going to stay here if he wasn't going to keep her, of course. And coming here again? She didn't hate the idea as much as she thought she would, but... What was the point?

"This wasn't bad," Sara admitted, quietly. For an adult, he wasn't so dumb. He was someone she could just about talk to. If she wanted that. "I'll think about it," she added, in her normal tone. "Bye!" And with a wave, the little delinquent turned to leave.

OOC: This thread is now closed. Sara proceeds to the other game thread until further notice.