I looked at my watch and headed back for the hotel. As I walked in I saw Mom sitting on the couch. She stood up saying, "There you are! Zack's been looking for you everywhere."

"What's it matter where I've been?"

"Because it's almost time for us to leave. Now go downstairs and find you brother."

I walked out the suite and almost ran into Zack. "Where the heck have you been? I've looked everywhere for you!"

"What's it matter? All yall want to do is shove me off to a psychiatrist."

"Cody, we're trying to help you, but you won't take it," he yelled in frustrated.

"I don't need help!" I yelled back.

"Yes you do! And you don't understand that you do need it! You need help, Cody! You know what, just…if you don't go though with this therapy and get help, then just don't talk to me anymore."

"Zack…" I said trailing off. I just couldn't understand why he was saying this to me. He was proving me right and I didn't want to be proved right. I wanted to be proved wrong. I wanted to know that he really didn't mean that, that he really did care.

"No, just go through with it or don't talk to me," he said walking around the corner.

I was about to go back into the suite until I heard Zack talking to Maddie. I was going to leave until I heard my name brought up.

"Where's Cody?" she asked.

"I really don't care right now."

"I heard what you said to him just now, Zack. And I have to say, you're full of crap!"

"What did I do? He's the one that won't get help!"

"Are you listening to yourself, to him? Did you hear the way he tried to stop you from walking away from him just now? He's begging for help! You know, you're always playing the big protector to him, but when he needs you the most you turn on him. That's messed up. Well I hope you're proud of yourself, Zack." I heard her say as she walked off.

I hurried back into the suite before Zack could discover that I was still there and had heard them talking.

"Where's Zack?" Mom asked as I closed the door and walked toward the room.

"Out there." I said as I was about to close the door.

"Well, come on. We better get going before we're late."

"Whatever," I said as I walked back out and into the living room. I stood there as I waited for Mom to grab her things before we left the suite. I stepped on the elevator and rode it down to the lobby for the millionth time that day.

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I sat in the waiting room forever until the door opened and a tall middle-aged guy stepped out and called my name. I turned toward Mom, begging her one last time not to make me do this.

"Mom, please. Don't make me do this. I'll change, promise, just don't make me see a shrink," I begged.

Mom looked at me for a minute before she responded. "I'm sorry Cody, but you need help. You're doing this, now go."

I hung my head and dragged my feet into the room and sat down on the chair. I watched as the guy grabbed a clipboard and sat down across from me. "Okay Cody, my name is Mr. Kirla. So you've decided to seek out therapy."

"Let's get one thing straight here, okay? I don't want to be here, I was forced to come. So the sooner you get that through your head, the sooner you we can get over this."

"Well, after the experience you've had, I'm afraid we can't just get over this. So do you want to talk about what happened?"

"Nope," I said looking out the window.

"How about how you feel now? How do you feel at this moment?" he asked trying again to get me to talk.

"Nope," I repeated.

"Then what do you want to talk about?"

"Nothing."

"Cody, we're not going to accomplish much if you don't communicate with me."

"I don't want to communicate with you! One, I don't want to talk about how I feel. Two, even if I did, why would I talk about it with a stranger?"

"Well, most people find it easier to talk to people they don't know that well about things, than with close friends and family. Most people sometimes feel ashamed about what has happened or how they feel, so they talk to me."

"Well I'm not most people. So how long do I have to stay here?" I asked looking around the office.

"An hour, so there's nothing you would like to talk about?"

That's how the rest of the hour went. The physiatrist would ask me questions and I would say no or just wouldn't respond. As we were leaving I saw him look at Mom briefly shaking his head before walking back into his office.

As soon as we got back I went straight into the bedroom and closed the door. I saw Zack sitting on his bed reading a magazine. He looked up as I walked in. I grabbed the book with the blade in it and walked back out of the room and into the bathroom.