“How have you been feeling lately?” Doctor Hans questions me as she sits cross-legged in her chair. I raise an eyebrow as I slouch further in the couch. Her thick-rimmed glasses had been slowly sliding down the small bridge of her nose and she finally pushed them back up so she could see me and what she is writing. As I thought about my response, I noticed Dr Hans writing more information about the lack of my answer on her notepad. The only sound in her room is her scribbling on her note pad and the ticking of the clock which sat on her clean desk.
“Same as always I guess,” I mumble. I feel Dr Hans judging me for my answer. It had been 6 months since the terrorist attack at the theme park. I look down to my hands as I think about the event and the flashes of images of her blood spilling
