Psh, fine, WHATEVERRR.

So I'm currently in the depression state of NaNoWriMo.

But Anna's temporarily talked me out of it.

SO.

I'm going to post part of it, the last part that I've written, and I want you guys to not only suffocate me in loving words (hahaha...), but MURDER MY INNER EDITOR.

And please, ask questions!! IT WILL HELP ME!

(How sad is this: My characters are going to not say hell. So... It's cheesey. Haha.)

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“Where are you going to go to college?”
I was caught off guard by not only the question as a whole, but the tone he asked it in. It was wistful and almost longing; not something I would’ve expected to hear from Les.
“I don’t really know. Michigan’s pretty.”
He nodded against my head.
“What about you?”
He smirked, shaking his head.
“What?”
“You know as well as I do that I won’t be going to college, even if I wanted to.” His angel face was drawn into a conclusive, set look.
I stared at him, appalled. “But... It’s not because... You’re going to...”
“I’m not, and I’ve already given in to you once today. Go away so I won’t have to again.”
I smiled at him sadly. “Fine, but even if you don’t, you’ve still got the ability to be great. Just remember that.”
He groaned, and looked at me, annoyed. “Okay, Mom. Go away.”
He hugged me, and I got up, picking up my shoes and sitting on the last couple of stairs.
“So, what’s the verdict?” August came down the stairs, stopping behind me. “He is going, right?”
“Yeah, but he’s not happy about it.” Les retorted. He got annoyed that August didn’t talk to him very much anymore, and referred to him indirectly when she did.
August glanced over at him, scowling. “Well he better get to the car quick, because I’m in no mood to put up with his crap today.”
“Quit!” I said, throwing my hands up. “Let’s just get this over with!”
Both of them were still grumbling as we walked outside, and the tension as we all climbed in the car seemed to simmer in the air.
“Which doctor?” August asked me morosely.
“Weber; Mom’s decided he’s the only shrink we’re seeing now.”
“He’s an idiot.” Les spat.
I took a deep breath. “Don’t we all know it.”
Dr. Jeremy Weber was about as closed-minded as you can possibly get in the world of PhDs. It wasn’t that he concluded that my brother was insane, but that he also wanted to see me, because he thought I was insane too, and that being crazy was hereditary; meaning that August, too, had to be some kind of crazy.
But unfortunately, he’d had some kind of date with my mom, and to get him off her back, she promised him that he’d be able to be her children’s psychiatrist; specifically, Les. He tried to convince her that the rest of us needed to be looked at too, which didn’t work, but also didn’t stop him from trying.
August turned on the radio, but as soon as Les started to sing along with one of the softer songs she liked, she flipped it off, grinding her teeth and looking intently out the windshield.
I just leaned back and enjoyed the silence until we got there, purposely ignoring the fact that Les had once again completely zoned out of the real world.
“Hi, there, Les.” The receptionist, Corrie, said warmly.
He didn’t respond; he was out of it.
Luckly, Corrie had gotten the same greeting the last several times we’d come here, so she instantly moved on and started signing us in.
“You know,” she said, her southern drawl tinged with thought. “I think Les would be a really good boy for any girl if he only talked.”
August froze, looking from the marks she was making on the sign-in sheet to Corrie’s face in surprise. “Corrie, he’s a mental patient who...”
“Lives in his own made-up world?” She laughed. “Ya’ll don’t really believe that he’s crazy, do you?”
August and I exchanged looks, and I shrugged. “It’s been proven more than once.”
She rolled her eyes, pushing her dark hair away from her freckled face, managing to pop her gum while doing so. “Okay, guys. Dr. Weber’ll be out in a few. Take a seat.”
We sat in the orange plastic chairs that the doctor had so generously invested in right along with his new Hummer, I figiting in my seat, August reading an outdated Vogue magazine, and Les laughing gently to himself.
At least one of us was having fun.
“Les,” I whispered, “Who are you talking to?”
He snapped out of his reverie, and frowned at me. “What?”
“Who are you talking to?”
Les snorted. “Right. I’m going to tell you, since you believe me and everything.”
I sighed. “I may not believe you, but remember when you used to tell me stories after Mom got remarried and I would cry until I fell asleep?”
Wearily, he looked at me. “Yeah, I do. But do you remember what I told you about that?”
“That it wasn’t you telling me stories; that someone else heard me crying and wanted to tell me them.” I recited, remembering. “But you repeated them, and talked about the people in them like you were best friends.”
“We are.” He said blandly.
“Oh...”
He sighed, and ran his hand through his hair. “His name is Hart.”
“Hart... As in the thing that beats?”
“I’m sure he means a friend of his, and a very good one at that.” We were inturrupted by a chunky face, scarred with traces of long-ago puberty and accented with wrinkles. A spot of white hair dotted the top of his thick head, and he wore a lab coat that made his brown eyes look darker than they were; etherworldly.
“Hello, Lester; Rowena. How have you been?” Dr. Weber wheezed.
I hated him.
Lester hated him.
Mom just wanted him off of her case.
It wasn’t only that he used my full name, the one which no one liked on me and fit rather awkwardly, but that he used my brother for a test subject, with pills and excersizes that were yet to be approved by anyone of status with my mom’s consent.
“We’re fine.” August hissed. “Can we please cut the formalities and get down to business?”
Weber’s smile slipped momentarily, but he coughed and caught himself. “Okay then, follow me if you will.”
Les stood up and shot me a helpless look as he followed the bulk of a figure into the office. Just as he opened the door to let Les in, he stood back and motioned to August and I.
“Come on in, ladies. I’m required by your mother, and by law, to have family to witness anything I may do.”
“Unfortunately.” I spotted for August.
She looked over at me in surprise, and then turned back to Weber. “Yeah... And according to the law, she’s a minor anyway.”
He shrugged. “Either way, one of you, if not both, is coming in here.”
August started to walk away, and I followed her into the small, compacted room, where we both grudgingly sat on either side of Les, August with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed, me with my hand holding tightly to Les’.
“Alrighty... Let’s see here.” Weber held up a tape recorder that was already running. “Would you all mind stating your names, to assure that you know the drill and are serving as witnesses-slash-patients?”
“August Jamie Carson.”
“Lester Marc Carson.”
“Enna Elizabeth...”
“I’m sorry; I wasn’t clear... Your full name.”
I sighed. “Rowena Elizabeth Carson.”
He smiled at all of us wickedly. “Okay. Now, Lester, how’ve your friends been?”
Les leaned back in the chair, Weber’s eyes probing him as if they could see straight into his mind, full of psychotic delusion and a tiresome imagination.
“They’re fine, as usual, and annoyed that you have to question them tirelessly.”
He laughed heartily. “The feeling must be mutual between you all then?”
“Actually,” said Les, smiling. “I couldn’t care less. It’s seeing you that annoys me, especially since you happen to pose a threat to my sisters.”
I tried to fight back a smile, while a lound grunting noise came from August, who was dying of laughter.
“Girls, girls! This is no laughing matter!” Weber grimaced. “Mockery gets you nowhere, Lester.”
He cleared his voice and tried again. “Can you please discribe what three of your friends have been doing for the last week?”
Les opened his eyes and smiled sarcastically, squeezing my hand. “Sure, whatever you want.
“Kait has spent the whole week doing nothing but ‘boarding because she’s smitten with Hart, who’s spent the whole week trying to figure out what’s wrong with her cluelessly, while Bird is trying to solve not only that problem, but how to get over being blind, like usual.”
He smiled innocently, while two out of three of us stared at him incredulously. August, on the other hand, just laughed. “Everyone loves Hart.”
All three pairs of eyes shifted to her.
“What?”
She shrugged. “Just pretending I understand any of this.”
We all reluctantly fell back into our places in the office, August and I as witness-slash-patients, Les as the actual patient, and Weber as... Well... Weber.
“That’s... a great revelation Lester... and August...” He glanced over at me warily. “Anything you have to add, Rowena?”
“Call me Enna, and no.”
“Really? No?”
“No,” I confirmed.
His forehead wrinkled up, making him look fatter and uglier than he already did, and he shook his head at me, turning back to his target.
“How old are your friends?”
“The same three?”
“The same three.”
He thought about it for a minute, and before he could remark, was inturrupted by Weber.
“Hesitation, Lester?” he asked suspiciously. “Do you really have to think about the ages of your best friends?”
I couldn’t be upset that he asked; I was thinking the same thing.
“Ah, yeah. But list the ages of three random friends of yours without having to think about it before you talk, Weber.”
“Dr. Weber, Lester - Call me Dr. Weber.”
“I’m sorry, Dr. Weber.”
“Much better. Continue.”
“Kait is two months older than Enna; she’s sixteen and three quarters. Bird is seventeen and Hart is eighteen.”
The psychiatrist laughed. “That’s a great little biography; I feel like I already know these characters.”
“They’re real, Weber.” Les said roughly.
“Doctor Weber...”
“I don’t care if you don’t believe me, but I’m serious. They’re my best friends, my worst enemies, and a whole lot of people who, like you, don’t believe in another world.”
“Alright, Lester, now what about...”
“But that’s not all!” Les exclaimed, getting out of his seat angrily. “That’s all anyone ever does – you never hear me out!”
“Les...”
He threw his hands up and walked out of the room, yelling something about being fed up with doctors and sisters.
I followed him quickly, pulling on his arm. “What the heck do you think you’re doing?!”
“I’m walking out! This is too WRONG.”

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