Chapter III: Reece

Thursday: January 27, 2000

"Now, Sylvie, your schedule will consist the classes that you need in a normal education, advanced classes, of course, and also three electives," Roger had said the next morning in his office. "One of these classes, for the next six months, will be taken up by private therapy. This is mandatory considering the…circumstances." He adjusted his glasses and looked at me.

I sat in the seat opposite of him, wearing my blonde hair in a ponytail, and a blue sundress. "You mean, telling a stranger about my problems?" I asked him.

"Well," he pondered over my question for a bit. "Perhaps, a stranger isn't the right word," he chuckled. "Here, we encourage that the other children get along with each other and get to know one another. That is why we get the senior students to help with therapy sessions." He took out a pen. "However, before we create your schedule, please allow me to jot a few things about you down so that we can match you with someone?"

I nodded hesitantly. "Sure."

"Now, your parents; they died in a plane crash?"

I nodded again. "They were going on a second honeymoon," I said. "They left me with a babysitter."

"I see," Roger continued on with the next question. "So, do you have any hobbies?"

"When my parents were alive, I used to live on a farm with them," I explained. "I was good at horse riding, and also hunting. But my cousins kept getting caught in my traps, rather than animals." I pouted. "I also make a good cherry pie."

"So crafting and baking." He looked up at me. "There is a riding stable about a few miles from here. Maybe you'd be interested."

"I would, very much!"

"Do you have a favorite food, color or drink?"

"Apples, orange, and tea."

"Good, good, I think we have your therapist." Roger picked up his phone. "Yes, could you please send Reece to my office?"

My eyes widened, and I bit my lip. I knew that this wasn't going to turn out well. Just last night when I got into the room, she was blasting loud music from her Walkman. Whenever I tried to communicate with her, she would turn it up more. I was surprised that she didn't go deaf.

"Did you want to see me Roger?" Reece came in after a few minutes. She looked at me and sighed. "I really don't think this is a good idea," She exclaimed, knowing exactly what was going on. "Can't you get one of the older kids to do it? Like maybe Linda?"

Roger shook his head. "You two are going to be roommates from here on out," he said. "No room changes, no exceptions; so wouldn't you two think that it would be a good idea to learn about each other, learn what each other has been through so that you two can co-operate in this house?"

Reece and I looked at each other. "I guess…" she groaned.

"Wonderful, now, just let me print out Sylivie's schedule and I'll have you two on your way." With that, my schedule was printed in seconds and I was out the door.

"You won't be starting until Monday; it won't make any sense for you to start today or tomorrow, so chill out in the room if you want," Reece said, "unless you do want to go to class?"

I shook my head. "I'll stay in the room."

"I'm coming with you then, get your first therapy session over with." She opened the door, which now had my name underneath hers. "First's thing's first: Where are you from?" She locked the door behind her and sat on her bed.

I sat on my bed opposite her. "France," I said. "Carnac to be exact."

"You speak English very well."

"We had to learn it in primary school. What about you?"

"I'm from a small village in southern Wales. Parents died when a drunk driver drove into the pub. Ironic, isn't it?"

"My parents died when lightning struck the engine of an airplane they were on."

"Must suck; where were they headed?"

"They were going to Sweden."

"They left you home?"

"Yeah, with the governess, however, she wasn't very nice." I twiddle with my thumbs. "What do you like to do?" I asked her.

She grinned. "I don't mean to brag, but I'm a pretty good tennis player!" She laughed. "And I'm not too bad at singing either!"

"I'd like to hear you sometime." I smiled. Then the bell rang. "Is that the end of classes?"

"Yeah, but it's not really anything special," She laid back on her bed. "Most of the time, kids just go to the library, or outside. Nothing exciting ever really happens." She grabbed for a hand held game on her nightstand. "You play?"

I shook my head. "I never had the time to play games; I worked on a farm more than anything." I walked over to her side of the room. "What are you playing?" It was a pixel game, and she was controlling a little man. "It's called 'Pokemon,'" she said. "This is the red version. There's another blue version in stores, but just one is fine with me. There's also a television show about it!"

"What's it about?"

"It's about a 10-year-old boy going on a journey to become a pokemon master; the pokemon are little, or big, creatures with awesome powers!"

"That's amazing!"

"Yeah! This kid and I get into battles a lot. Don't know who it is, but I always seem to get his signal around this time." She smirked. "Speak of the devil!" The music from her game picked up pace, and she was now battling the unknown boy. "Stripes?" I questioned the name of his character.

"Yeah, weird name, huh? Mine's just Reece." She began to choose a pokemon. "I think I'll go with Charmeleon!" A dinosaur looking pokemon was sent out. "One pokemon this time, Stripes? Fine by me!" Her pokemon was a level 35. "I just need one more win to evolve!"

And in about ten seconds, exaggeration or not, his equally leveled Wartorle won. "Oh, come on!" She yelled! "That thing just evolved into a Blastoise! No fair!"

And with that, she turned off her game. "I'll get him next time!"

A/N: THIS IS SO BAD! DX I AM SORRY!