Lizzy picked up her notebook. Inside was every one of her innermost thoughts. She picked out a large pink felt pen from the clumped group in a blue Viagra jar on the shrink's desk. Dr. Nora held up large cat-like glasses and stared into them before cleaning them with a piece of her shirt sleeve. Lizzy stole a disgusted glance at the old bag with the spinach in her teeth and ripped stocking.

"Now, Elizabeth," she said, condescendingly. "Do you under stand why you're here?"

"I freaked out. I know." she rolled her eyes.

"Now, in your journal I would like for you to write down all of your problems, and we will quite possibly come closer to understanding you."

Lizzy muttered something under her breath and pulled her hair from her eye lids. She hated this Dr. Nora. Who says things like we will quite possibly. And she knew herself just fine. She understood herself just fine. What made Bradley Nora think she needed help understanding herself?

As the words flowed onto the page, she went into a sort of daydream coma. What did happen that made her do what she did?

As she thought back, she couldn't think back far enough to understand the root of this problem. Maybe it was last week, when...no, it was even earlier than that. The Fourth of July block party? Nope, dig deeper. The very last day of the eighth grade. Of course it was. That was the day Lizzy saw the apocalypse coming in her life, in the form of early adulthood.