It was cold outside. Wet and miserable. Thunder roared, and the wind picked up.

"Are you glad you forgot?"

Lily listened with her eyes closed. It beckoned her to come out and have some fun. A big part of her wanted to, cold or not. She wanted to feel the real. To feel the rain pelt against her body, drenching her in seconds. To run around and feel the mud squish between her toes. To be uncomfortable, in a good way. And after, she'd take a hot shower, and have a mug of cocoa, and take a nap.

Mom and Dad said it was too dangerous, though. She could catch a cold! Or the flu! Or pneumonia! She could slip in the mud and hurt herself! Really, what was wrong with being out there for only a little bit? They could supervise her. Heck, they could join her! A moment of being carefree, where she didn't have to worry about anything. That's all she wanted.

A corner of her mouth pulled up.

"Lily?"

But there would be no smile, because none of that was allowed in the day's agenda, was it? No, Lily was sitting in dry clothes in that soft, comfortable chair, stuck in Dr. Lopez's warm, comfortable office, under that soft, low lighting. The whole thing struck her as fake, planned, manufactured, stuffy.

The clean smell wasn't helping. She wanted to gag.

"Lily."

Lily opened her eyes. Dr. Lopez sat in her chair, one leg crossed over the other, her notebook in her lap, her hands stacked neatly. She looked concerned. "I wasn't ignoring you," Lily yawned.

"I know." Dr. Lopez nodded. "Is everything alright? You seem tired."

She was. "I am." She quickly added, "A little."

"Still having trouble sleeping?"

"...Sometimes."

Dr. Lopez smiled. "We won't be much longer, I promise."

"Mm." There was a pause. Lily blinked, and she lingered on it.

The sound of writing. "Have you been taking your medication, Lily?"

"Yes."

"Regularly, since this latest incident?"

"Yes. Why? Do you think I'm lying?"

"Are you?"

"No." It was a strict routine now: twice a day, at the same time, Mom, or Dad, or sometimes both, would stand there and watch her. She'd put them in her mouth, take a drink, swallow. They'd tell her to open her mouth, move her tongue, poke her cheeks. They'd give her a hug, and tell her how much they loved her. "You can even ask Mom and Dad. I take them every. Day."

"That's good."

Lily looked down, smoothing her skirt out along her lap, playing with the hem. "Even though I hate it."

"'Hate' is a strong word."

She popped the fabric from between her forefinger and thumb. It flew back, bunching at her knees. "Doesn't mean it's not the right one."

"Hm." Dr. Lopez shifted. The light caught off her earring and hit Lily in the eye. She winced. "Let's explore that. Why do you feel so strongly?"

Where did she start? That they tasted horrible? Or on some days, she felt like she was going to choke on them? That they made colours headache-inducingly vibrant? Or how about how they never, ever helped her forget? The list went on. Sometimes she thought about it so much, it felt like an assignment for school. 'Why I Hate Taking My Medication, an essay by Lily Loud.' She dreaded anyone ever reading that non-existent paper.

But why start at all? These were the moments where Lily was in control of the course of their discussion. She didn't have to say anything. She could nip the whole thing in the bud, right there. They'd move on to another topic, and come back later when she was 'more willing' and 'comfortable'. All she had to do was say so.

All she had to do...

Was...

Say. So.

…

"They make it hard to remember," she blurted out. Lily may have been in control of their discussion, but how about that big mouth of hers? Yes, that too, and that's why she was going to have some choice words for herself later.

"You know it's not unusual for people in your situation to have memory issues. Have you been keeping your daily journal?"

No. "Yes." Dr. Lopez wrote. "That's not what I mean, though. This is different."

"Different how?"

"Like..." She hesitated, sighing. "Mom and Dad will tell stories, or watch home movies, and they look so happy, and I..."

"You want to be happy too."

"...I can have a hard time telling the real from the fake sometimes, right?" Her chest ached admitting that. "Everything they talk about? Everything we watch? I know it's all real."

"How do you know that?"

She clutched the front of her hoodie. "Because I can feel it."

"Mm-hm." Dr. Lopez nodded, writing.

"I can't remember, though, and I want to. I just want a few clues, but when I start asking questions, they brush me off like it's nothing! Whenever I don't take my pills, I can remember sometimes, even if things are fuzzy." Her grip tightened. "So, yeah, I am kinda glad we forgot."

The vents hummed. Dr. Lopez tapped at her bottom lip with her forefinger. "Bun-Bun."

The rabbit instantly sat at the forefront of her mind, and that smell of something else joined him. The unease was back, and her heart beat faster. "What about him?"

"Is that what you're worried about?"

Lily looked down, struggling with her skirt again. "I don't know."

"The last your family saw of him was nearly seven years ago, correct?"

God, she hated skirts. "That's what Dad said."

She smiled, probably an attempt at reassurance. "You were an infant. Your brain was still developing and not programmed for episodic memory. You can't expect to remember things that happened at such an age. That's just nature."

"But can't they help me?"

"Possibly, but if they don't, will you hold it against them? I ask because your description of their reaction to seeing Bun-Bun doesn't sound like 'nothing.' We've spoken before about how it's possible you experienced a traumatic event. Did it ever occur to you that they, too, may have gone through the same thing?"

"Like what?"

Dr. Lopez shook her head. "You're missing the point, Lily. There are seven billion people in the world, and each one has a unique story. At the same time, there is overlap."

"Yeah. I'm a part of this family, too."

"You are."

"Then I deserve to know."

"You don't think your ignorance of this could be a blessing?"

"How could it be a blessing?"

"Not everyone can forget as easily as a one-year-old."

"I didn't forget," Lily muttered. "I know I didn't. I just... can't remember."

"You may not be able to remember, but your parents do, and it sounds as though it burdens their hearts and minds. You're already dealing with enough. Would you really want more?"

"...No."

"That's why they keep it from you. They love you so much, they choose to carry it themselves, regardless of the pain it causes, and see keeping you ignorant as protecting you. You need to tread lightly with this, because not all scars are visible. You know better than most how hard it can be for them to heal."

Lily's right hand ran down her left arm from the elbow, tracing the discolored line hidden under her sleeve. The first two fingers lingered at her wrist. "I thought you said keeping secrets was bad."

"I don't think that's what this is."

Her head whipped up at that. Of course they were keeping secrets! Mom and Dad stopped mid-sentence when she came around. They looked at her with small, sad... fake smiles. It wasn't normal, and it was scary. And she was taking their side? "But they-"

"I understand your intent, Lily. Really, I do, but this isn't something you can rush." She shifted, sitting straight. "I'm not going to tell you that you'll remember everything you want, but the things you do? They're going to come gradually, not all at once. You want to be able to recognize these memories when they do come, right?"

Lily looked to the floor. "...Yeah."

"Your medication will make that possible for you. Allowing yourself to get discouraged and jumping to these sort of conclusions will only hinder your growth. You need to focus on the now to make progress. You've been doing well, but the only way to maintain that momentum is to-"

"-keep taking my medication," Lily finished. She was like a broken record.

Dr. Lopez nodded. "Yes. Now, I need you to promise me that you'll do your best not to miss any more."

A pause. "So that's it, then. No choice. I'm stuck with it, even if I hate it."

"Well, no, there's always a choice, even if it doesn't feel like it." She rested her chin between her thumb and forefinger. "After all, a choice is what led to us seeing each other again. We just have to weigh the benefits and consequences. With your parents, they feel they know what's best in relation to you and Bun-Bun. The pain is lesser this way, so they don't tell you. You greatly dislike-"

"Hate."

She wrote. "That's how you feel towards your medication, but you know if you don't take it in a timely manner, you risk further incidents. You don't want to experience all of that pain and fear on a daily basis. You don't want to force your parents to sit by and watch you fall apart. And you certainly don't want to risk a potential relapse. Does this sound right?"

Yes. Like she didn't already know. "Maybe," Lily shrugged.

Dr. Lopez nodded. "It takes a lot to do something, even when you're afraid. They have a word for that. Do you know what it is?"

"No."

"Brave."

Lily cleared her throat, suppressing a laugh. "...You think I'm brave?"

"I do."

"I'm not brave. 'Brave' is for, like, cops and firefighters. I'm just 'pathetic'."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it's true?" She turned back to the window. The rain had slowed, but she caught a flash of lightning in the distance. "It's either I take the pills, put on a mask, and hide from the world, or don't, and hide in the corner like a little kid, afraid of nothing and begging my head to shut up."

Dr. Lopez flipped through her notes. She paused, looking at a page. She flipped back. "How old are you, Lily?"

The thunder hit. "Eight."

"So you're young. Youth is inexperience. Inexperience begets ignorance, and ignorance, fear. You-"

"You said my ignorance 'could be a blessing.' Fear isn't a blessing."

"Ignorance in general, I mean. About how the world works and what tomorrow will bring. And that's okay. The older you get, the more you'll understand. After all, as time has gone on, you've recognized the importance of your medication. You take them willingly, albeit begrudgingly. You've come a long way from having them mashed into your food."

Lily felt her face get hot.

"That's growth." She smiled. "Even if it's something small, it still counts, wouldn't you say?"

She always had an answer, didn't she? And what was with that smile? Was she mocking her? Was it even real? Or was it something perfected after years of practice? "Taking a few pills isn't good enough." Lily shook her head. "You'll have to do better."

"You made it through an incident alone."

"No."

"You explored the linen closet."

These were accomplishments? "And who was I being brave for? Who did I help?"

"You." She pointed with her pen. "Bravery can be small and subjective just as much as it can be a grand display. As a child with her attention divided more than most, you accomplish things on your own you may not want to, or sometimes even feel you can't. Still, you push through and do it anyway. Things some adults can't even do. You don't think that's brave?"

"Not really..."

"It is, and your actions helped you grow as a result. Even if it's something small, progress is progress. Never doubt that. But I'm going to ask you again, to promise me, that you'll do your best to take your medication."

Quiet, Lily messing with her skirt.

"Lily."

"...Fine." She didn't look up. She couldn't. "I promise."

"Thank you." They went quiet, and Dr. Lopez began to write. How much time passed before she spoke again? "Our time's up for today. Try to get some rest, okay?"

Giving a hurried nod, Lily pushed out of her chair and rushed to the door. The walk across the room seemed longer than usual. Maybe the feeling of the therapist's eyes on her had something to do with it. She was planning something, and it wasn't good.

Lily's hand started for the doorknob...

"Oh, and Lily..."

Even with her hoodie, she shivered.

"When you leave, please tell your parents I'd like to speak with them." It was worded like a request, but it wasn't.

Yeah, definitely nothing good.

The waiting room was just like Dr. Lopez's office: warm, comfortable, and fake. The only difference was there was nothing to do in the waiting room. No TV, all the books Lily had already read, and the magazines were pure trash. 'Folks'? 'Sixteen½'? Really? This was the stuff people wanted to read?

She'd never get those brain cells back.

Why couldn't she go out and wait in Vanzilla? She could lie across one of the seats and listen to the rain hitting the roof. Maybe take that nap. Mom and Dad wouldn't let her, though. They said it was too cold. She didn't mind that, and told them so.

They still said 'no.'

Lily glanced at the receptionist. She looked away from her computer, giving Lily a small smile and nod. Lily quickly looked away, adjusting her sunglasses. She had to look somewhere – anywhere – else. She settled on the clock in time to see the minute hand tick. Again.

She groaned.

This wasn't the first time Dr. Lopez had called Mom and Dad in to talk about whatever, but it never took more than ten minutes. Now, they were going on twenty-two. Lily was starting to get nervous, and not only because of what they might've been talking about. The longer she had to wait, the higher the chance she crossed paths with strangers. They knew she only did so well around strangers.

She looked down, messing with the hem of her skirt. Again. She looked up. Twenty-four minutes.

The door to outside opened and an ominous rush of wind blew in. A boy with glasses and a striped shirt stepped into the room, and a large, well-dressed man followed. They both waved to the receptionist, the man stopping by the desk. The boy didn't, continuing to the seats.

"Don't," Lily begged under her breath. "Don't, don't, don't-"

He sat next to her. "Hi!" His voice was thick with cheer, like he was happy to be there. Was that even possible?

Despite being such an expert at hiding from the world, Lily knew she couldn't avoid it forever. That's why 'Lily Loud's Guide to Maintaining Social Isolation' existed.

Number One: Hide in plain sight.

Lily found a pair of sunglasses in a dusty, old box in the attic once. They had black lenses set in round, white frames a few sizes too big for her. They made everything so dark it was almost impossible to see. There were a few times she almost walked into walls or fell down flights of stairs.

Still, she loved them.

She exhaled slowly through her nose, pushing them further up, blocking out more of the room. When she wore them, she felt strong. In control. Invisible. She couldn't see the boy anymore, and that meant he couldn't see her either. That's how it worked, right?

Yes. Totally.

Number Two: Be quiet.

"Is this your first time seeing Dr. Lopez?" he asked.

Lily shifted, turning her head in the other direction, focusing on an unseen spot on the wall. She was smart enough to know not to say anything. No acknowledgments or greetings. She wouldn't answer any questions, or make any 'harmless comments.' No grunts or sighs. Not even any gestures.

"You'll like her! She's really nice."

She stayed quiet, her jaw tightening. She wasn't going to say anything. He was wasting his breath and his time. The conversation he was looking for didn't exist. It never would.

Number Three: Make yourself as small as possible.

Lily heard it all the time, like she didn't already know. She was small. Tiny. 'Underdeveloped' for her age. Teachers said it, and doctors, and not one holiday could go by where she didn't have to hear it from relatives. Except Pop-Pop. He never gave her a hard time.

Pop-Pop was so cool.

…

Anyway, their constant reminders weren't going to change anything. But she didn't mind her diminutive stature. It worked for her, especially in moments like these, where she could use it to her benefit.

"Uh, hello?"

Turning her back to him, Lily pulled her legs up, her arms wrapping around her waist, squeezing as tightly against the other side of her chair – away from him – as possible. Her goal? Look small, and pitiful. Physically sick, even. Usually, at that point, people would leave her alone.

Usually.

He leaned towards her. "Are you okay?"

Her heart beat faster and... Was she shaking? She felt like she was shaking. Was it too much to ask to be left alone?

"Alright, sweetie. That's enough." The man. "She doesn't want to talk, and we need to respect that."

"But Dad-"

"Clyde," the man whispered, "you're making her uncomfortable."

The boy gasped loudly. "What?!"

Lily tensed.

"Oh man!" He leaned closer. "I am so sorry! I-"

"Come on, son. Come sit over here."

The boy groaned and stood, moving several chairs down, leaving a gap between her and them. "I can't believe I didn't notice..."

"It's alright, Clyde. Everyone makes mistakes. You can tell Dr. Lopez all about it."

"Yeah..."

The boy sighed heavily. The vents hummed. The clicking of the keyboard continued. The clock ticked. Lily looked, moving her sunglasses enough to see. Thirty-one minutes.

"I'm sorry about that," the man said, his tone low. She quickly moved her sunglasses back. "Clyde can get a little... excitable. Please don't hold it against him."

Was it an exaggeration to say the man saved her? No way. He did. It was truth. A fact. So she owed him something, right? What was the absolute least she could do for him?

…

Lily shrugged.

The man chuckled softly. "I understand."

Quiet again. Lily suppressed a yawn, looking back to the door leading to Dr. Lopez's office. Still nothing.

What was taking so long? She wanted to go home.