"…Memories back when she was bold and strong, and waiting for the world to come along…"

Clad in a tye-dye hoodie advertising her hometown, a surly preadolescent girl sneers out the window at all she sees from the front seat of her mother's car. The only movement she has made on the entire trip has been to draw the covering over her face; leaving solely her eyes, burning with the fury of a thousand fires, visible. They peered over the highway, doling out rage on all that passed by. Upon hearing this lyric however, her otherwise inflexible scowl breaks into a Mona-Lisa smile and a clipped acerbic hiss escapes from her nose, serving as a stifled laugh.

"Oh, you got something to say Kamala?" Her mother responds.

Kamala's smile vanishes and her face once again returns to its original state of an acerbic scowl. This time, rather than the trees and road signs, it is now Summer who finds herself the target of her daughter's displeasure. From the corner of her eye, the elder of the two Love women watches as the titanium-withering puss of the younger stares her down.

"Don't give me that look you little bitch. You bought all this on yourself."

In lieu of a response, Kamala rolls her eyes and flips down the hood of her sweatshirt revealing her full head and face; in what could only be irony from the man upstairs, the girl had inherited a great deal from the mother she loathed in the looks department save for two triangles of freckles on the right side of her head (particularly beneath her eye and on her temple). Unlike Summer, however, Kamala's skin was as pale as Queen Anne's Lace and her hair had been half shaven. What remained of it was dyed a deep almost black-ish blue and rested in unkempt layers.

"…Spending my Saturday driving your psycho ass to therapy three hours away…"

"Right, because you had a real productive day planned out too; Babewatch reruns, cry, some more Babewatch reruns, cry again. Curse those kids that won the sandcastle contest while sucking down some vodka. Cry. Cry. And to top it all off more Babewatch reruns. Hold on I think I got a violin here somewhere."

Kamala felt her mother's hand cracking down across her cheek, an action which caused the car to violently swerve over a lane scrape against the cement divider in the middle of the highway, knocking off the rear-view mirror in the process.

"DAMMIT KAMALA, THAT ATTITUDE OF YOURS ALMOST GOT US KILLED!"

Summer violently pulls into the lot of the gas station and parks the vehicle in the first open spot available. The minute of silence between the two of them feels like eons until Summer icily shattered the silence.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"My rear view mirror is in the middle of the highway."

"Then it must suck to be you."

Kamala's acerbic response is met with Summer exiting the car and opening the front passenger door. As Summer returns to her place behind the wheel and gestures towards the highway, it slowly dawns on the preadolescent what her mom is demanding of her.

"You've got. To be. JOKING!"

"Unless you somehow have the money to fix this…" She replied with a cold shrug.

Slowly, Kamala exits her mother's car and meanders toward the edge of the highway. She finds the mirror resting between the lane dividers. With a trepidacious deep breath, the girl counts the cars as they pass before she could safely make her move.

"One car…two, three, four…five…six, seven, eight…nine…"

"…Ten miles until your exit."

Other than the GPS on Kamala's phone, the overwhelming cloud of silence choked the car as the Love girls continued their trip to Hillwood. While Summer's eyes remained glued to the road, Kamala took deep breaths as she emotionlessly cradled the pieces of her mother's rear view mirror.

Kamala surveyed the situation and counted the cars as they went by. the ninth car would pass, the eighteen-wheeler would follow, and kick off a window of opportunity large enough for her to retrieve the mirror. Car number nine whizzed along the road and Kamala lurched forward, preparing to make her move. Looking back, it all seemed foolproof…until it wasn't. She could feel her entrails crunch with each collision shared between the truck's tires and the fallen piece of her mother's car, nonetheless, she bolts onto the highway and gathers up the aftermath.

"Exit Riverside Highway. Keep left towards Hillwood."

Kamala takes one last look out the window to see building 66613, the corporate headquarters of the RWL Fashion Company. She sees a wistful smile from on her mother's face, no doubt knowing how she'll spend her time during the session.

"You have arrived at the Hillwood Medical Center."

The car barely comes to a halt as Kamala opens the door and jumps out. She turns around to close the door when her mother clears her throat.

"Call me when you're done. And I hope to God this Doctor Shortman has something to pull that stick out of your ass."