#6

Lux couldn’t help but grimace as she slowed to a stop outside of the shrink’s office. Her hand hovered over the handle as she thought of the last time she’d had therapy.
 She was only eleven, and she’d adjusted poorly to her last two foster homes. The parents always referred to her as ‘uncooperative’ and ‘unwilling’ and ‘rebellious’. If that’s what they wanted to think, she wouldn’t disappoint them with anything different.

Lux protested as she was ushered in through the front door into the fake-cheery, over-scented, ugly mint-walled office. One of the couches was tucked in a corner, its fake leather cracked and faded and peeling away from the arms and seams. She bundled herself into that sofa, watching with wary eyes as her foster mother signed her in.

Once she’d finished at the desk, her guardian crossed the room and sat next to Lux, digging out an old Highlights magazine for them to look at. The woman hadn’t gotten it through her mind yet that Lux had no intention of bonding with her.

Lux jerked away when she reached to tuck a stray lock of Lux’s hair behind her ear.

Before the woman had a chance to look hurt, the shrink emerged from her office, holding a clipboard and calling Lux’s name.