Lukoff: psychiatrist, short, long cloth skirts, frumpy dowdy cardigans, small dangly earrings, worn black square toed heels

Sara: patient, teenage girl, sophomore high school, frail, pale, sunken dull eyes, baggy sweatpants and sweatshirt, moccasins,  (dissociative amnesia, anxiety, depression)

Sara is sitting in the waiting room next to her mother with her legs drawn up to her chest her frail body leaning on her mother, as if she was not only supporting herself but also the world on the top of her heavy head. Sara’s name is called. She gets up slowly almost torturously dragging herself upright, then hesitates, shrinking back into her mother’s safety as the smiling woman in blue attempts to warm her hunched chilly demeanor. Sara looking back at her mother with her brows creased pouting, angry and pleading all at once.

MOTHER: Go ahead. I’ll be here.

And Sara trudges on. Sara sits and meticulously studies her surroundings. Dimly lit office. A desk, 2 chairs facing it. A bookcase behind the desk stacked with things like, “cognitive remediation for psychological disorders: therapist guide”, “disorders of childhood: development and psychopathology”, “DSM-IV-TR”, “Meditation for dummies”, “Bipolar disorder: a family-focused treatment approach”. She notes the few ugly faded framed art posters on the wall attempting to make the dank room a little more cheery, to her left the coffee table, a glass bowl filled with cheap stale candy. None of the furniture matched. The room seemed haphazardly thrown together just to fit Sara’s mood, dark, stale, disheveled. She finally acknowledges the therapist.

SARA (voice over): Stop staring at me. You won’t find anything.

LUKOFF: Hi Sara, It’s nice to meet you I’m Dr. Lukoff. Have you ever been to a therapist before?

SARA (voice hard, body rigid): No.

LUKOFF: Okay then let me tell you a little about what we’ll be doing during our time together. For today I’m just going to ask you a little bit about yourself so I can get to know you a little better. I want you to know that anything you tell me will be kept between us unless you explicitly let me know it’s alright to share with your parents. And if anything you say will potentially cause harm to yourself or others I am required to tell someone; like if you were to say you were going to kill yourself.