[Music fades in quickly, revealing a song that is shrouded in the singers emotions. The song is more heartfelt, but starts to have a sense of sadness to it. A light dim light starts to come forth, brighter and brighter it shines until 2 figures are seen. The well known psychiatrist and a less familiar slouching figure, sitting in a chair that has started to seem to shrink opposed to The Teenager's growing body. The Teenager sits in his chair, the same one he has used since a child, as he stares at the same man he has always seen as a nuisance.]
Psychiatrist: Hello, I know it has been some time, but I can't let this get off to a slow start, I'd like to just ask you about your comment, many sessions ago.
[The Teenager doesn't know how to reply to his statement. He thinks of the first couple times he came to the psychiatrist, it had been years and the visits had become less frequent so that the conversations would be longer. The psychiatrist looked different now, he had a goatee growing and he looked even more aged than before, a coating of guilt and sadness had been slated over him and could not be removed due to his long life of dealing with the problems of other's and no one to deal with his own. The psychiatrist became such a significant part of The Teenager's life now, he was hardly anything short of his life. The Teenager saw the psychiatrist more than he saw anyone else, he would spend hours, equaling days in his office, an eternity of time spent in silence with a man who started as a stranger, but became his closest family.]
Psychiatrist: Look...I know that you don't want to talk about it, but I'm telling you it will help.
[Music bursts into The Teenager's head, a loud scream with a pounding kick drum explodes into the center of his brain. No words, just pure anger reside in this music, The Teenager just snaps back in rage, “I don't want to talk about it!”, the music suddenly goes into a slow acoustic breakdown, he calms like a river flowing slowly to a dark blue sea. The Teenager breathes slowly and apologizes for his outbreak. The psychiatrist is in a sudden state of shock at what has happened, not only was he yelled at, but it was the first significant sign of emotion that his patient had given him. The Teenager calm now, thought of the years, zooming by in his head, his eyes just saw vivid flashes of memories, then he saw the one memory he didn't want to see, the memory of parent's graves, and the lack of tears in his eyes. He was young and naïve, he hardly knew what was going on, but the loss of parents obviously affected him. These are the bones that the psychiatrist has been trying to uncover, but that The Teenager doesn't want to let out.]
Psychiatrist: Well I see you're under some stress, maybe we should cut this session short and start somewhat fresh so that you can compose yourself. Goodbye.
[The Teenager almost got angry again, he felt composed, he didn't feel like anything was wrong with him, how could the psychiatrist have any clue what he was going through, he was a growing human, going through a life with no parents, with no one to call his own family, he needed to get his feelings out to someone, the psychiatrist mainly. But his mind was full right now, he couldn't think. He had to go leave, maybe in a following session he can reveal his thoughts to the psychiatrist, but he couldn't promise on that. The sudden drum beat starts again when he lifts himself from the chair, the floor seems to be bouncing, almost trying to meet his steps half way, so that he won't have to work the full strength of his own leg. He walks slowly focusing his eyes on his musical hallucination, then soon realizes how suspicious he might look, he quickens his pace along with the drums and walks towards the door. He exits.]