[Music fades in, louder than before, but having more of a melody that is distinct from any songs that would be considered music. As the music is sustained at a constant level, a light of a desk brightens, revealing 2 silhouettes, both recognizable, but one is of a slight larger stature than before, and there is something more than just physically different about this boy. His silhouette alone lets you sense a difference in The Boy.]
Psychiatrist: Good evening son, It's good to see you again. What's been on your mind?
[Off to the same old start. The Boy looks at the psychiatrist, ignoring his question, seeing his somewhat receding hairline, and noticing the bags that the years of this job have created under his eyes, he feels almost responsible, thinking that maybe this man has somewhat of a relationship growing with this boy, that maybe the psychiatrist feels a connection, a friendship. The Boy would love to believe his own thoughts, but in the years of time he's known the psychiatrist, he can't even believe he would think that the psychiatrist could develop any feelings. In these years, The Boy seemed to get more details of the psychiatrist's personal life, than the psychiatrist could get of The Boy's. He was a smart boy, and both of them knew that, that's why these sessions were so difficult to go through with, both knew that they would end at the same dead end as always, the psychiatrist asking what was on The Boy's mind and The Boy staying silent like always. Silence follows, pursues, and proceeds his thoughts.]
Psychiatrist: Well, since you won't answer...what has been going on lately?
[The Boy cites his weekly events, telling the psychiatrist of the days at school and his interaction, or lack thereof, with his fellow students. It's not that The Boy thinks he is better than any of the students, although he is, it's just the fact that the students see him as frightening. The Boy is neither tall nor burly, he is of rather average height and strength in physical aspects, it is in his mental and emotional traits where this fear resides.]
Psychiatrist: Son, how do you feel about these students, about your lack of social life, your lack of acceptance.
[The Boy thinks about this, he almost feels insulted when he hears what the psychiatrist says. Although the boy agrees with the fact of his lack of acceptance, he feels like it was never needed to be stated or talked about. Although bothered by this, he tells the psychiatrist what he thinks he should say, maybe not the truth, but a answer that will leave that at that...Unless you're a psychiatrist of course...]
Psychiatrist: Now you can't just feel so generic about this. You must have some feelings about the situation.
[The Boy knows what his acquaintance is trying to do, but he will not let the psychiatrist get to him, The Boy just restates his lack of care for the subject, and reiterates that he is fine with his relationship with his fellow students. The psychiatrist will accept this for now, but he will of course go back to his never-satisfied question.]
Psychiatrist: Before you leave, I wanted to ask, what do you have on your mind?
[The Boy thinks, he ponders whether to unlatch the gate of his mind, he opens it slowly, thinking of whether to say anything or nothing at all. The music suddenly pounds in his skull, as if some foreshadowing of an epic event, like the movies he has seen, where music comes in at the right parts, but The Boy does not know where this is coming from, the singer chants into his skull, “Don't let anything go, you will only let everyone in. Sometimes depression can be, the best way for keeping away sin. Don't let you get ahead of yourself, you'll only get hurt. Don't lose your upper hand to him, don't say a word.”, but with theses lyrics fresh in his mind, he accidentally lets one thing out, “I miss my parents...”, it slips through the crack of the open gate before he could slam it shut and bolt it closed. The music has turned into a scream, one sounding of pain in his chest and his head. The Boy thinks of what he has just said, he realizes that he might of just unlocked a door for the psychiatrist to pry through, until he finds his answers. The Boy stands up and turns to leave, knowing that he should go before the psychiatrist has his way with his brain. As he leaves, another drum beat slowly picks up pace, more like the beat of his heart, almost like an essence of life for The Boy. He walks with the heart beat, even as it quickens, and almost dashes out of the office, while the psychiatrist calls goodbye out of the office door. He exits.]