Tom
"Depressed?" my mum asked, stroking Jake's hair as he slept. "What do you mean?"
"Jake has a case of adolescent depression," the doctor explained to us, my mum and me.
The Yeerk put a face on to make me look all concerned, which I was, but this was a Yeerk I'm talking about.
"He'll be alright, though?" my mum asked, starting to shake.
"It is not rare for someone who has experienced the kind of trauma Jake has to set into a series of depressed or oppressed feelings," the doctor explained. "He is still young and it is likely that he will eventually grow out of his feelings."
"Are these tests accurate?" my mum asked.
"Only the best psychiatrists have examined Jake," the doctor said proudly. "These tests are indeed accurate."
"Does he need medication?" the Yeerk used my mouth to speak, my voice full of concern.
"If required," the doctor said. "The alternative of course would be counselling."
"I don't want my son subjected to medications," my mum said clearly, but softly so as not to wake Jake.
"Then it's counselling," the doctor said with finality. "Jake is your son, I understand your concern for his wellbeing, but I must warn you, that counselling hasn't produced the best results in Jake's case."
"Well what are the side effects of this medication?" my mum asked, looking down at Jake with tears forming in her eyes.
"Anti-depressants can cause a number of side effects ranging from headaches to diarrhoea," the doctor said, sounding like he'd swallowed the textbook. "I have a pamphlet for more information."
Depression? The Yeerk laughed in my head. The twit has depression? This is too good.
Shut up, I growled. He's just a kid.
"A positive about counselling, however, is that he can get anything off his chest and it is absolutely confidential," the doctor said. "Something the psychiatrists mentioned was how this depression was coming for a long time. The car accident and his father's death just topped it off. Is Jake having any problems at school or with his friends?"
"Not that I know of," my mum said. "Tom? Have you noticed anything?" she asked me.
The Yeerk shook my head. "If he's upset about anything he's doing a good job of covering it up."
"Which do you prefer," the doctor asked, turning to my mum. "Counselling or medication?"
"I'd prefer counselling first," my mum said. "But if he's not improving, I suppose I have no other choice."
"Very well," the doctor said. "I'll check who's available."
He stalked out of the room. My mum collapsed on a chair next to the bed.
"Why us?" she whispered.
The Yeerk moved my legs towards her and wrapped my arm around her. He comforted her in the same way I would have.