I get in and buckle my seatbelt. "Why is this so important?" I ask. "Because it is," my dad states, turning the radio on. I start to talk again but he turns the radio up super loud. I guess they don't want me to ask too many questions. The car parks and I look out the window, I can't see the sign from here, damn it.What are they bringing me into? We walk to the entrance and I read the sign. We're at a doctor's office, ugh. We enter the waiting room and my dad tells me to sit down. I choose a seat in the corner, I stare at a little boy on the floor. He's playing with the supplied toys. What are these people thinking? Other sick children play with those toys. By letting your kid play with them they're going to get more sick. Do they want their child to die? I guess so. I'd kill him right now if I could. After a while my parents take their seats close to mine. We wait silently. "Skylar Rove?" A lady asks from behind an adjacent door. I walk towards her as she opens the door more widely. I follow her down the hall and we enter a room numbered three. My parents sit down just after I do. "So, Mrs. Rove and Mr. Rove, why are you here today?" The lady asks, turning her attention to my parents. "Well, our daughter," my dad starts, pointing to me. "She has been suffering from severe depression and suicidal thoughts," my mom finishes. So that's why they brought me here. I want to run and leave now. "Is this true, Skylar?" The lady asks me. "Yes," I mutter quietly. "She has hurt herself purposely," dad mentions. "Where?" The lady, known as Claire, asks. "On her legs and ankles," my dad says. "Do you keep weapons in your home?" Claire asks, rolling my pants up to examine my scars. "Well yes, for kitchen use, but she always steals them," my mom replies, Claire nods. "Maybe you should hide them or secure them in a locked cabinet," she suggests. "She'd find them and she knows how to pick a lock, she's quite clever," my dad protests. "Oh, then I don't know what to tell you besides to get rid of them all together," she replies. "And we won't do that," my dad says sternly. "Exactly," I hear Claire mutter under her breath. "Well, I'll give Skylar a form to fill out to figure out how bad her depression is and we'll figure out what medicine to prescribe for her afterwards," Claire announces as she leaves. She returns a few minutes later with a sheet of paper and a pen. "Answer these truthfully," she tells me as she sets them down on a small table next to my chair. I nod and grab the pen. I fill out the sheet and hand it back to her. "Thank you," she says as she exits the room once again. "You're welcome," I say. We wait for a while and she returns with a medicine container in her hand. "Here's the medicine we prescribe for her, she needs to take two pills twice a day, when she wakes up and before she goes to bed, it should help, if it doesn't please let us know," she says as she hands the medicine to my mother. "Thank you so much," both of my parents say. "You're welcome, have a nice day," Claire says as she leaves. I get up from my seat and we exit the building. I get back in the car. "Let us know if they help or not when you start taking them," my dad says as he starts up the engine. "Okay," I reply. The car leaves the parking lot and soon we're home.