I went soul-searching in the past couple of weeks and by soul-searching I mean I found useful information to make this more realistic. So the consistency of this story has officially gone to shit from here on out until I go back and redo everything. Again.

P.S. Part of this is just me self projecting and then amplifying the self projection by 10 because fun times anyway. Mentions of swearing and suicide.

Approximately a week later, at 8am, Maka was sitting on her bed waiting. She hadn't slept much that night, her mind preoccupied by thoughts of her parents. Her laceless trainers were untouched, her feet dangling over them. As a knock sounded Maka slipped her feet into them and padded over to the door, opening it to be greeted by a stern face framed by neat short black hair. The young girl tried her best not to flinch as she stared into Azusa's eyes. Without a word, Azusa turned and gestured for Maka to follow her, choosing to ignore Maka's feeble and quiet "Good morning."

Maka kept her head up, determined to remember the hallways they were walking through. It was always good to be prepared for anything that may thought of the endless possibilities as they took another right turn, documenting everything in her sight. Maka could only guess why every bouquet of flowers was built using only yellow and purple and as well as why the rugs appeared to be nailed down. She vaguely took notice of the sign above the door she entered, glancing around the room as Azusa sat down in a black leather chair. Behind her was the only window Maka had seen so far, flanked by deep brown bookcases that were lied with various pieces of reading material. The walls and carpet were a rich green, giving off a more natural vibe. Maka took a seat in the chair opposite Azusa, still taking in the room. The clearing of a throat brought her back into the moment, taken aback by the steady cold stare directed at her. In Azusa's hand was a bright red wristband labelled 'Maka Albarn' in bold. Underneath was her room and floor number."Wrist."

Maka held out her arm, head tilted as the band was wrapped around it. "You may have noticed some of the other patients wearing these." No, actually, Maka had no memory of seeing a red wristband on anyone. Perhaps she'd been more interested in remembering names and faces than peering down at everyone's wrists. "These are so we're able to identify you at all times. The colours vary. In short red means you need more attention and are increasingly unstable." Maka didn't particularly agree with the 'unstable' part nor the fact that her privacy was was becoming exceedingly scarce. "We implore that you do not attempt to remove the band at any given time." Nodding, Maka tuned out. Despite her scary appearance, Azusa didn't seem very attentive.

"Now we will begin. Maka, I would like you to ask me any questions you may have at this present time."

Maka tuned back in, her curiosity bubbling up inside of her. The first question spilled out of her mouth before she had time to think. "Are my parents allowed to visit me?" And she pulled back, curling her arms into each other and narrowing her eyes.

Azusa nodded, as if she was expecting this. "Yes. They can either call and book a visiting session or visit during the monthly visiting sessions we hold every two weeks. Our next one is in five days. Is this a problem."

"Yes. It's definitely a problem." Maka didn't understand why the words kept coming. She didn't want to say anything at all and yet here she was, basically defying Azusa. It was gratifying, sure, but didn't really help her at all. "I don't want to see them. I'm refusing in advance. Note that down." There it was again. Was she really speaking or was it all in her head. Maka glanced at Azusa;s hands as the woman scribbled something down. No, no she'd definitely said that.

"Anything else you wish to add?" Maka shook her head, certain she didn't have anything she wanted to say. "Well e have somewhere to start. Tell me why you don't want your parents o visit you?"

Why? Maka didn't know. She hadn't meant to say those things had she? Well, she probably had. Maka couldn't tell. Her own thoughts were a mess, her own intentions unclear. Was she just saying it because she knew they wouldn't want come? That they would rather do anything other than care or their child. Perhaps she was just trying to justitfy her actions. What actions? Did it even matter. She realised Azusa was still waiting for a response so she bit her lip and threw together what she believed to be an acceptable answer.

"Because they will never be able to care or show love for me. I'm a burden that has been removed from their shoulders."

Oh.

Oops.

Maka hadn't planned that at all. She was supposed to say that she didn't need to burden them anymore. Typical self-deprecating things. She knew her parents cared for her, at least enough to keep her sheltered. No matter how significant they still cared? Maybe it was for their own benefit. That would be okay as well. Maka's eyes widened as she brought her shoulders up. Was she defending her parents? The two people she hated and in return, hated her? Did she really believe that her father who'd cheat constantly and only ever drink and throw fits, eat all the food, take all the money, lock the doors so she couldn't get in the house, throw away all of her belongings when they started taking up more space than he thought necessary? Or her mother who was never around, who blamed her for not looking after her father, who forced her to work and never stop, to use at her own disposal? Maka bit her lip in effort to keep a humourless laugh escaping. She supposed she was.

Without knowing it Maka had started crying, the tears not unnoticed by Azusa who simply pushed her glasses further up her face. "Maka, could you explain in a little more detail? Why do you believe they don't love you? In what ways are you a burden? We have all the time in the world if that helps."

A switch was flipped in Maka's head. The blonde raised her head, her eyes steely and cold. "No. No it doesn't help. Don't lie to me." Maka's head was swimming. Count 1,2, 3. Count 1, 2, 3. Not working. Tick, tick. Tick, tick. Annoying. Yell, scream. Loud, louder, loudest.

"Mak-"

"Shut up. You're lying. This isn't going to help at all. We have all the time in the world do we? Okay. So I can take as long as I want to answer. I could take hours, days, years. Would you really wait? Do not lie to me."

"Maka you need to understand that we are trying to help you. Please calm down and consider your position here."

Maka sprang to her feet and snarled. She felt vulnerable, she felt scared. She didn't want to think, wanted to shut off her mind and just exist for a moment. She wanted to be able to cry and scream and break down without the judgement of others bearing down on her. She was furious, she was violated. She wanted to shout. So she did.

I do not want your help. I do not want to be stuck here until some old bitch decides I'm not gonna put a bullet through my head at the first opportunity. I'm sorry for not wanting t be a nuisance and for not wanting to waste your o so precious time okay? I'm so, so sorry for constantly stressing people out and becoming a burden just by making people aware of my existence. I try not to pursue love, joy, happiness at the expense of others and despite being miserable and despising myself I still try to make it easier for others, I really do. If it takes someone harassing someone else every single bloody day to make them feel better then they can beat and bruise me till the cows come fucking home!"

The pigtailed girl took in a shaky breath, focusing on keeping her body still. She was exhausted and all she wanted to do was sleep and forget. She was a leech, sucking the happiness from those around without meaning to, a beacon for disaster. So what if she occasionally broke down? She was compliant, obedient, restraining herself as much as possible. Why was everyone always questioning her? Did she have the answers? Was she as selfish as everyone said she was? Who was she?

"I didn't complain. I didn't fight back. I didn't mean to upset anyone. I just wanted to a break I just wanted it to stop. Is it selfish, to be so tired? Is it fucking selfish to want to say goodbye and be left alone for once? Answer me! Is it that fucking bad that I have to be questioned because of my fucking actions when everyone else around me just gets a pat on the fucking back and good job! Well if so then well fucking done because I'm done, I'm so, so done and I want it to stop and I can't do this."

Tears were racing down the blondes cheeks, her hands rythmically rising and falling to wipe them away. Her throat was on fire as she backed away towards the door, surprise lighting her face as she choked out one last sob and fell to the floor. Azusa was on her feet in an instant, kneeling down beside the sobbing Maka, and gently lifting her elbows up, prising her from the floor. It was a slow procedure, Azusa unsure if the child before her was even aware of what was going on.

Maka could feel her tears dry, disgust building up as her uncomfort grew. Her vision had cleared, and she found herself staring into Azusa's face again, this time, eyes filled with concern. Concern that she wasn't doing her job properly or concern for Maka. Concern for her herself or concern for Maka. Concern for the breakable or concern for Maka. A sudden fury fueled her, replacing the anguish and despair she'd been feeling moments before. Maka lost her rationality, was too caught up in the moment to care. She rose to her full height, eyes burning and pricking with more unshed tears. She glowered at Azusa, hating the pitying look directed at her. Hating the confidence this woman had in her abilities.

Suddenly Maka knew what she wanted to do. She had goal, a reason, a passion. She wanted to ruin this woman, this thing that pretended to care so much and most of she wanted to defy her. She wanted to look her in the eye and say 'no' to the simplest thing. She wanted to walk away and refuse the guilt that would eat at her, eat away at her being. So she did. She spun around, pigtails whipping through the air.

"I'm excusing myself. Have a good day, Ms Azusa."

And then she was gone. The door was left swinging on it's hinges, bouncing open right after Maka had slammed it shut. An astounded Azusa left behind, crouching on the floor, confused and concerned.

A/N

This turned out to be a little longer than I expected and I deviated from my original plan so I've got to redo the next chapter which won't take long I guess. Merry Christmas y'all.