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Chapter 12
Stress
“Your healing quiet well, Destiny,” my doctor tells me, flipping through my notes.
“I wasn’t in pain when I came here,” I told him, my jaw clenched. I and my doctor have never had a good relationship, since Dorothy died he never believed in my psychic power, sending me to thousands of counselors.
“Destiny…” he paused. “You fainted during class, it was bound to happen, with the stress sprung upon you.”
“I’m not going to another counselor,” I say, knowing he was going to lead there soon.
He sighed. “I think it’s best.”
“You did the other times, look where that’s got you.” I tell him, he and I both knowing it was true.
He shook his head. “Fine, but I advise extra rest, te should stay home for the successivo few days to calm down.”
“I’m not stressed.” I insist.
“I highly disagree,” he flipped through his notes. “You haven’t been paying attention in class, te barely eat anymore, look at yourself, your super skinny.”
“I’m always skinny.”
“Not this skinny, and your parents have informed me that this isn’t the first time you’ve passed out, they told me te haven’t been sleeping well.”
“And te and I both know why,” I say, looking him squarely in the eyes.
“Daydreams and nightmares,” he waved his hand. “Doesn’t matter, te need rest and good food, it’s why we’ve been keeping te here, and as I detto your healing quite well.”
“I’m fine!”
“You’ve gain meat on your shoulders, you’ve been sleeping better, and you’ve been isolated from stress inducers, like the news Your not caring what happens to your body, te need to take better care.”
“I’m. Not. Stressed.”
Taking strands of my hair, he showed me, some strands blonde others gray. “This says otherwise.”
Chapter 12
Stress
“Your healing quiet well, Destiny,” my doctor tells me, flipping through my notes.
“I wasn’t in pain when I came here,” I told him, my jaw clenched. I and my doctor have never had a good relationship, since Dorothy died he never believed in my psychic power, sending me to thousands of counselors.
“Destiny…” he paused. “You fainted during class, it was bound to happen, with the stress sprung upon you.”
“I’m not going to another counselor,” I say, knowing he was going to lead there soon.
He sighed. “I think it’s best.”
“You did the other times, look where that’s got you.” I tell him, he and I both knowing it was true.
He shook his head. “Fine, but I advise extra rest, te should stay home for the successivo few days to calm down.”
“I’m not stressed.” I insist.
“I highly disagree,” he flipped through his notes. “You haven’t been paying attention in class, te barely eat anymore, look at yourself, your super skinny.”
“I’m always skinny.”
“Not this skinny, and your parents have informed me that this isn’t the first time you’ve passed out, they told me te haven’t been sleeping well.”
“And te and I both know why,” I say, looking him squarely in the eyes.
“Daydreams and nightmares,” he waved his hand. “Doesn’t matter, te need rest and good food, it’s why we’ve been keeping te here, and as I detto your healing quite well.”
“I’m fine!”
“You’ve gain meat on your shoulders, you’ve been sleeping better, and you’ve been isolated from stress inducers, like the news Your not caring what happens to your body, te need to take better care.”
“I’m. Not. Stressed.”
Taking strands of my hair, he showed me, some strands blonde others gray. “This says otherwise.”
