"Do you want to die, Eddward?"

"I...no, I don't believe so." came the timid answer, spoken hardly above a whisper.

Eddward was confused, it was difficult to try and sort his emotions accordingly and it bothered the boy greatly. He was what some would call a genius but here he was, struggling to thoroughly answer the questions being asked. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence though, once a week Eddward came here to see his therapist, and he had been for the past three months.

Of course, though, he had set up these appointments himself. His parents were never around to be there for him so there was little to no chance they'd be there to set up therapy. He did everything himself, doctors appointments, therapy, dental visits, everything he managed on his own; but it wasn't tedious. Eddward enjoyed being in control of everything that directly involved him, it ensured stability in his life and his schedules.

"It's okay not to know, at least that's better than a yes." the woman replied, quickly skimming the file in her hand. Despite Eddward being one of her more regular patients she was adamant to make sure she remembered everything on his file. The thorough undertaking put Eddward at ease. "How has your anxiety been lately? Better or worse? Last time you were here you told me you didn't know, do you think you know now?" she questioned, looking at the frail boy with soft brown eyes.

He began to shrug but stopped himself, his mind muddled. "I wouldn't say better, but it is not any worse than usual. The same triggers cause my anxiety and it has been to the same extent as always." he replied quietly, reaching up to scratch at his hat as he usually did when he was feeling nervous or embarrassed. "I suppose it is a bit better in a sense, because the other night I arrived home ten minutes late due to Eddys antics, and it didn't seem to bother me as much as usual. But it seems my mind made up for the little moment of peace because later that night because as I was counting the ants in my ant farm, I could not find one and this resulted in a minor anxiety attack." he informed her, glancing at the clock to see he had eleven minutes and seventeen seconds of therapy left.

"Okay, I want you to do something for me- ah, hold on." the therapist turned in her swivel chair to retrieve a pen an small note pad. Placing them on the table before Eddward she continued speaking, "I want you to write down things that calm you down or keep you at ease, as many things as you want, doesn't matter what it is."

Doing as he was asked Eddward picked up the pen and began to write a neat list of things that made him feel better. It went, as follows:

1. Having a thought out, written down list of events or a schedule.
2. Counting the numerous ants in my ant farm, 606 harvester ants; all workers.
3. Watering my garden.
4. Reading; Doing schoolwork.
5. Cleaning.
6. Spending time with Ed and Eddy.

Thinking for a moment he decided a list of six activities would suffice and pushed the notepad back towards his therapist.

Picking up the list and reading it over, the woman nodded and set it back down. "Okay I want you to keep this list with you, all the time, so whenever you start feeling anxious you can have it to rely on. Or if you can't do anything on the list then you can count the things you wrote, two things three times? Do you think that might help?" she said, putting the pen in her hand down on her clip board as she glanced at the clock.

"I suppose so, it wouldn't hurt to try at least." he replied, nodding to himself as he ripped the paper off the notepad and folded it neatly, six times, into a small square. Eddward tucked the slip of paper into his pocket and glanced at the clock again, 4 minutes and 28 seconds.

For the remaining time the two briefly talked about what should be discussed next week before the clock hit 5:00 pm. Standing up he smiled at the therapist and shook her hand twice, a thing he did each time before he left.

"I'll see you again next week, Eddward." she said with a smile, waving him off so she could take her next patient.

"Goodbye, Mrs. Davis." he replied, walking down the short hall to the waiting room with his hands wrapped tightly around the strap of his messenger bag. He would address her by her first name, Susan, like she offered, but it felt too strange to be so informal with her. As he kept his gaze on the Victorian style carpet, he suddenly felt himself collide with a solid force. At first he assumed maybe he ran into a wall, but after a quick analysis of what it felt like he realized it was not a wall, a wall wasn't warm nor covered in fabric. Looking up he quickly took two steps back, eyes wide and hands quickly make their way to his hat, holding onto it as if it were going to fly away.

Standing before him was someone he hadn't seen face-to-face in a while. Sure, they lived in the same cul-de-sac, ever since they were children, and they had always attended school together, but they were never friends. Here, in the only place other than his home Eddward could feel at ease, stood Kevin Barr; his notorious middle school bully. Eddward was speechless and it took him a few seconds to sputter out a quiet "I'm sorry".

Kevin scowled, nose scrunched up as he brushed off the front of his letterman. "Move." he spat, shouldering past the thin boy and walking into the room Eddward had just left without another word.

Anxiety spiked in Eddwards chest. Still holding onto his hat with one hand he quickly left the building and took a deep breath the moment he was outside. Why was Kevin here? This was Eddwards haven, and now it was in danger of becoming something to cause anxiety. Why would someone like Kevin need therapy anyways..?

Hello! I am aware there are many cliche high school KevEdd stories, but I'm going to add to the mix regardless.

I hope this chapter is alright, I plan on continuing this story with regular updates, especially now that school is coming to an end. Please, feel free to review and offer some critiques! Thank you for reading.