Chapter 2

Peter sat back at his desk, tapping his pen and thinking. Any minute the new student, Frida, would come in after the rest of her intake process was finished. Normally he took this time after to talk to the new student and find out about them, but Frida's case was different. He doubted he would find anything out that wasn't already in her files if he took that approach. According to her files she had been in and out of different facilities since she was 15. She was close to 18 now, only a few months away. It wasn't long for him to try and help her.

This was the last ditch attempted. The facilities that she had been sent before were all of a more medical sort and were much more secure. The last place she had been, a counselor had made the arrangements to send her to Horizon and it had taken some doing. Frida's files were mostly the same across the therapists and doctors that had treated her, until the last two months of her most recent therapist. He suspected problems at home over a mental problem, though Frida had refused to open up.

There was a knock on the door and then Frida was led in by the staff member who had taken her through the rest of her intake. She left, and Peter told Frida to take a seat. He sat for a moment, just observing her before clearing his throat and looking down at her open file on his desk. He was at a loss of where to start and was scanning the file for inspiration.

"So, what should I know?" Peter asked. Finally deciding on an approach that put her in charge at the moment. Frida shrugged. She didn't know what he wanted to know. There was too much and from her experience professionals seemed to only want to hear what they wanted her to say, not any semblance of truth. There was another knock on the door and the doctor came in and handed Peter some papers before leaving again. Peter glanced at the papers in his hands.

"Why do you have bruises?" Peter asked. He was more thinking out loud than asking her. Frida just shrugged anyway. She had just come from a secure facility and the amount of bruising that her brand new medical exam showed were unnerving. "Did you bruise yourself?" Peter asked.

"No." Frida said, almost seeming to half laugh as she was saying the word.

"But you self-harm?" Peter questioned.

"Yeah, I cut. But I wouldn't bruise myself." Frida replied.

"Then why do you have so many bruises?" Peter asked again.

"Differences of opinion." Frida explained, sounding as if the question were ridiculous. Peter was hesitant to ask if they were between her and the other patients or her and the staff at her previous placement, either way he needed to show her things were different here.

"From your files, all the past places you were at seem medical. Horizon is different. There aren't locked doors. There aren't tall fences. Here we give you a measure of trust. To help you get better." Peter explained.

"I don't need to get better." Frida said making air quotes with her hands at the last two words.

"Your files mentioned a change in attitude lately. Now, I don't know you and files aren't always accurate, but from what they say until recently you were more… accepting of help." Peter commented.

"Really, I assumed they just said I was difficult." Frida responded.

"They say that too." Peter admitted.

"You know why? No one cares. They don't even know what is wrong with me." Frida stated using air quotes again around the word wrong.

"It says here that you are diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, which many professionals find… difficult." Peter said looking at her files again.

"Does it mention that before I was diagnosed with depression? Then they changed it to Bipolar? What about the fact that one therapist was looking into ADD until suddenly I got switched to a new therapist?" Frida exclaimed passionately, siting forward in her seat. It was the most emotion Peter had seen from her so far.

"You don't think your diagnoses is accurate?" Peter asked.

"I don't know. I'm not a professional. I just don't think anyone knows what they are talking about. I could have all of them or none of them or some of them. I don't really care. I am starting to think that people just put labels on things that don't really matter. I am just me. Whatever ever changing labels I seem to get, I stay the same, so I don't think they matter, at all." Frida explained.

"But you do realize at the very least that you shouldn't cut yourself?" Peter said calmly.

"Why not?" Frida countered.

"Because you are hurting yourself." Peter explained calmly.

"Yeah, right. Other people hurt me, and no one cares or calls it a problem. So, I am thinking that people are a bunch of hypocrites." Frida explained.

"Well no one is going to hurt you here. I see that you managed to get the keys and tried to make a break for it at the last place you were at. Before that, a series of ineffective escape attempts. If you want to leave here, I won't stop you. You'll just be sent somewhere else assumedly. So you might as well give Horizon a try. This isn't the same type of place you were before. You might like it here." Peter said. Frida shrugged. Peter opened his desk drawer and pulled out a blank composition book.

"Every new student gets a journal. Sometimes there will be assignments, but you can also write whatever you want in it. Whatever you are feeling. It helps not to keep things bottled up." Peter said handing her the journal. Frida took it, but by the look on her face you would have thought Peter was handing her poison. Peter looked at the clock.

"I've placed you in a group called the Cliffhangers. They are about to head to the dining hall. The head counselor is Sophie Becker." Peter said getting up and leading her to the dining hall. "Your bag was placed in the Cliffhanger Girl's cabin, you can settle in after dinner." He explained and pointed to the cabin as they walked.