A/N: Yay, my first real chapter! Hope you all like it. =)
AD POV:
Easter Sunday in "boring" Stratford, Connecticut. Boring my butt. So, it's Easter, and I was cooking for my brother, parents, and my friend Tori, who was one of my clients. Yet, I'm called to my office, all the way in Westport, CT, in a very nice, rather expensive office building. Just because one of my clients most likely had a break-down.
Can you spell 'f-u-n' any other way?
So, I headed up to the third (of ten) floors, to my office. I tapped the glass in front of the reception desk-only out of habit-thrice, then opened the door to my main 'examination' room.
Now, anyone would be surprised by what I saw. One of my most...common, I guess, clients was sitting on the couch, looking rather angsty. But, this was normal. What wasn't was that she had her thick brown hair in two braids and was wearing a paisley-print dress hat was a bit too small. Just a bit.
A straight jacket was folded on my desk, as I could see when I approached it and sunk into my leather spinny chair (Only the best for the best, I always say), with a note on top that said 'Just in case' in loopy script. I opened the bottom left drawer of the desk and added the straight jacket to my growing collection from this client's other visits.
I blinked twice, then took a pen and clipboard, stood up, and moved over to the plush chair directly across from the couch. A bowl of jellybeans-obviously courtesy of my secretary Sarah-were sitting on the table to the left of my seat. "Is da Easter bunny!!" shouted my client in a very childish manner.
It took me a moment, then I snatched the bunny ears off of my head. My client's face fell a great deal. "So, Ms. Tomsheck, why in God's name are you here? On Easter?" I asked, rubbing the bridge of my nose gently with my fingers.
She simply giggled. "I dunno a Mi-iz Tomsheck. I is Haley." Was her ten-year-old mannered response. I couldn't keep the shock off of my face at how fluently she spoke like a ten-year-old. It was oddly like her brother's old mannerisms.
"Haley, Haley, Haley. What are you talking about? Was it your brother? Or your cats?"
"I dunno," she responded, her voice then turning whiney, "But I wanna go home to my mommy. You is sca-a-a-aring me."
I sighed, turning to my notes. I headed the paper with 'Haley Tomsheck, Easter Sunday', then, on the next line, wrote 'Either memory loss-due to concussion-or skitzophrenicy has hit a new low'. "Haley, we both know you're skitzophrenic, but this is ridiculous. Please, just drop the act so we can both go home." I pleaded gently.
Haley stared at me with a blank expression, which quickly became appalled. "Didja just call me sumtin' bad? I dunno what skit-o-phen-iky is, so it must be ba-a-a-ad." She accused.
Dear Lord, she's cracked. Better knock her back before it gets worse. I thought, before picking up a lime jelly bean from the bowl. I flicked it at Haley, and it hit it's mark, making contact between her eyes. She rubbed her eyes drowsilly, then looked back at me wide eyed. I held a mirror up and she let out an audible gasp before quickly beginning to undo the braids in her hair. "Do you-"
"Top drawer of the cabinet, Haley. You should know that." I said, my pen moving across the paper as I doodled. Haley went to the cabinet, then left the room. She returned moments later in a shirt that said "Warning: Skitzo and loving it" in bold red letters and a pair of jeans.
"So, Dillonsy, what was it this time, or do I not want to know?"
"Ten year old. Pretty much a female version of your brother."
Haley gagged slightly at this bit of news. "Sorry, Dillon. Mind if I join you for the rest of the holiday? I don't really want to head home after this...Again..." she pleaded slightly.
I simply smiled, pushing my glasses up higher on my nose. "You know you're welcome in my home at any time, Haley. Goodness." Was my response, as I stood and we left my office arm-in-arm.
A/N: Wow, my first fanfiction in a hile. And it's not even a fanfiction yet! Please R&R, flames or praise. I don't care very much. =) Again, Happy Easter. Bella