A/N: Hello!

Yes, I know that I should be working on Break My Bones, but I just couldn't resist this story! The main pairing for this story is GrimmStarrk, and I know that it's a rare paring, but it was just what I envisioned for the story. There are other pairings mentioned in the story as well such as ShiroIchi, TiaStarrk, and UlquiHime.

I'm taking a huge risk writing in Grimmjow's PoV, but it just wouldn't be right any other way.

As usual, I am nervous as tits about starting a new story. Especially this one.

Why, you ask?

Well, this particular story is very special to me. Let's just say I have a friend (who's in higher places now) who was the inspiration for this fic. Our favorite English teacher back in 7th grade told us to always write from your heart, especially if it's from what you know. And even though I don't know this from experience, I knew it through her words. Writing this story is a way for me to remember my dear friend. So, I can only hope that this will be enjoyable for whoever reads it.

This won't be a total sob story, as hers wasn't. I will try to make it funny as well, as it was hilarious the way she told me...Which makes me feel like a sick person. XD But she liked to make a joke out if everything, even her own misfortune.

This is for you, Milan.

Enjoy! :3

No, you don't know what it's like

When nothing feels all right

You don't know what it's like

To be like me

To be hurt

To feel lost

To be left out in the dark

To be kicked when you're down

To feel like you've been pushed around

To be on the edge of breaking down

And no one's there to save you

No, you don't know what it's like

Welcome to my life

-Simple Plan 'Welcome to My Life'

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaques?"

Fuuuuuck.

I don't want to do this.

I really don't want to fucking do this.

I don't even need this. Or...at least, I don't think I do. I tried reasoning with the judge, but the bitch was stubborn.

'Anything but this,' I pleaded. I'd rather do some time in Juvy. Well, maybe not that, but I certainly wasn't expecting this shit. Fuck her.

Fuck everything.

Fuck the judge. Fuck this sentence. Fuck this fucking uncomfortable-ass chair I'm sitting in. Fuck all these sorry shits in this waiting room with 'real problems.'

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaques?"

Fuuuuuck meeeee.

I stand up and walk towards the prick holding the door open. He places his arm in front of me and I almost rip it off.

"You can't smoke in here," he says and gestures to the lit butt between my fingers.

I roll my eyes then take one more drag. I blow the smoke in his face then snuff out my cigarette on his clipboard. He looks mortified, but I could care less. I push past him then walk down the hall until he catches up with me. He dusts off his board then points to a room. I walk on. The door is already slightly open so I don't bother knocking. I slip in and I'm greeted by some buff guy sitting behind a desk. He's got scars up the wazoo, and a tight-ass dress shirt on and slacks. Oh, I almost forgot to mention the fucking eye patch. This guy looked like he should be in my place.

"Sit down," he says in a deep and rough voice, nodding to the couch-thing near the window. When I don't immediately listen, it seems like he's about to burst out of his shirt like the Hulk or some shit. "Sit down," he repeats.

I listen this time because, believe it or not, he's terrifying. I quickly take in everything about the room. I admit, I'm a bit of an analyst. The name plate on his desk reads 'Kenpachi Zaraki.' Kind of fucking name is that? I'm one to talk, but still...There are small drawings badly scribbled on notebook paper lying on his desk, but I can't make out what they are.

He's staring at me.

This office is on like the thirtieth fucking floor, which is why I was so wary of coming here. The place is lost in the sea of buildings downtown.

He won't stop staring at me.

The sun is starting to go down. I can see it's reflection one the windows across from here. Staring at everything is starting to irritate me. I can't stop my leg from bouncing. I'm getting impatient.

He won't stop fucking staring at me.

Pray you never see my famous temper boil over. Wait, hold on...

Too late.

Fucking Mortal Combat here opens his mouth slightly and I lose it. A plastic chair is suddenly kicked into the wall.

"No. No, no no no. No no. No. Nope!" I laugh then stand. "Fuck this!" I roughly rub my hands over my face. "I thought I could do this. Fuck no." I swiftly exit the high rise office and get the fuck out of there.

I am forced to come back the very next day. Once again, for the first five minutes, we stare at each other. MC and I are both analysts, which I hate with all my core.

"You gonna talk or what?" I blurt out angrily.

"Are you going to walk out again? Because I don't plan on wasting my breath," he asks sternly. For once, I don't have anything to say to that, so I just sit back in my chair. "Okay." He opens a yellow folder and his eyes begin to skim quickly. "Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. Currently 16 years of age. Charged with Aggravated Assault and sentenced to 16 weeks of Emotional Counseling and Psychotherapy. Diagnosed with severe PTSD—"

"Shut your fucking mouth. None of that's true. Lies. All of it," I snap when I hear the last bit. I'm fine. There's nothing wrong with me.

"Okay..." MC slams the folder closed and drops it on his desk. "Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. 16 years of age. Self-riteous, underaged asshole who is convinced the world is against him. Diagnosed with severe Cliché Syndrome. That sound about right?" A sly smirk finds it's way to his mouth and I want to punch his teeth in. "I can tell who you are just by looking at you." I shout and jump over his desk to grab him. He grabs me instead and slams me down on his desk with my arm yanked behind me.

"Don't fucking say that like—" I start.

"Like I fucking know you? Oh, but I already do, Grimmjow. I read you."

"You don't know shit!" I shout then groan when he pulls my arm again. "You therapists are all the same! 'And how does that make you feel?' Tch. Like that question will draw out something from them. All I am to you is another paycheck," I snap and try to squirm away. "You have no idea what the fuck anybody has been through!" Zaraki goes silent for about two seconds and I feel triumphant. But those two seconds of triumph soon pass.

"You're right. You aren't anything more than a paycheck to me. And a well written one at that," I can hear the smirk in his voice. "Wanna know where that money goes? To my seven year old daughter. Who I had to fight fucking tooth and nail for to take her away from her drugged up mother who wouldn't think twice about selling her just to get her next fix." When I heard that, my body lost some of its tension. I was stunned. I mean, who wouldn't be after hearing that? Zaraki releases me and tosses me back in my chair. "So, before you go off on a stereotype, remember this: everyone has been through something. Life isn't good enough to go through without a scratch." My eyes flicker to his numerous scars then I look away.

"And lets get another thing straight. Regular therapists and psychotherapists are two different things. Regular therapists are there for people who haven't seen the world for what it really is. Psychotherapists are there for people who have gone through hell itself, and weren't able to return unscathed." I find myself actually taking his heavy-weighted words to heart. "I am here to crack open that little skull of yours, using any means necessary, see why you did what you did, and determine whether or not you're fit for the public." MC walks back around to his desk and sits in his chair. "So tell me, Grimmjow, what hell have you gone through?"

That question intimidated me more than it should have. I just might have to swallow my pride here. Is he really going to help me? I mean, no one's really there to help anybody. We all get some personal gain out of helping others one way or another. That's just the way this sick, selfish world works.

Right?

So I didn't start the main storyline here because I didn't want to expose too much in the first bit. It's sort of a prologue in a way.

I can hear Milan yelling at me now:

That's not how it happened! I totally kicked that bitch's ass!

Sure you did, Milan. XD

Well, what did you think? Tell me in a review!

R&R, please!

~EMAE