July 19-2025

"Good afternoon, Clarke," Elara greeted Clarke as she opened the door to the Healer's office. She had a smile on her face that Clarke didn't trust.

"Good afternoon," Clarke replied, carefully watching Elara for a clue to the reason for the smile.

"Did you have a good week?"

"Yeah."

"What's one highlight you can think of since we met last?" She still had that smile on her face.

"I went to town with Reese."

"Okay, getting familiar with the town, that's fun. What kind of shops were there?"

"Coffee, clothing, stuff like that."

"Oh, that's cool. I'm glad you enjoyed that."

Clarke just nodded. She was lost in the memory. It had been the only time she had felt truly OK. She wanted that again.

Elara paused, still wearing that too-bright smile. Clarke suddenly realized what it meant. She was about to bring up something Clarke didn’t want to hear.

"Clarke," Elara started. She paused again, trying to find the right words. She looked up at Clarke. "I want to talk about something you may find a little harder to talk about. In your first session with me, when we were talking about the Remmingtons, you didn't want to talk about Tripp. We've come far in your journey of the aftermath and now I think it's time to approach this topic again."

Clarke looked away. Not happening, she thought.

"Do you want to tell me why you didn't want to talk about Tripp initially?"

"No."

"Did he do something to you?"

Clarke set her jaw and said nothing, only staring straight ahead.

"Clarke, we need to talk about this. It'll help you feel better. What did Tripp do? Was it before the fight in your house, or during?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Clarke burst out, turning to face Elara. She was angry. She didn't want to talk about it, so she shouldn't have to.

"Deep breaths, Clarke," Elara soothed. She didn't look worried.

"No—I will not," she said through her teeth.

"Fine, let's move on to something else then," Elara responded.

July 26-2025

"Do you feel ready to talk about Tripp now? I can really help you sort out what you are feeling."

"No."

August 2-2025

"It's been a while since you've seen Tripp. I was wondering how you feel about him. If he hurt you in any way, you need to tell me. I don't want you to be hurting."

"No."

August 9-2025

"We need to talk about this, Clarke, otherwise I can't help you," Elara persisted. She had some exasperation in her voice now.

Help me? More like fix me! Clarke thought. This time, she didn't say anything. All you want to do is make me no longer a problem to the people around me. You don't want to help me, you want to help them.

August 15-2025

The afternoon before her fourth session with Elara, Clarke sat on the leather couch in the living room, reading a book. Reese sat at the other end of the couch working on a letter to one of her friends from school. Their dad sat across from them in one of the old, comfortable chairs. He was reading the Daily Prophet. Shawn was outside creating something with wood.

Clarke barely understood the words she read. Her mind was filled with other things. She was tired. It had been a hard week. After trying to not think about Tripp for a long time, to no avail, she gave up and let her thoughts swirl around in her head.

She wanted to talk to Elara about Tripp and what he had done that scared her, but she was afraid. She was afraid that she would be pitied and seen as a problem again. She had managed the last one already, though. Elara was getting sick of not getting anything out of Clarke and Clarke was struggling to keep it inside.

Does that make me weak? She asked herself.

Yes, talking about it would be weak. It shows you can't handle it on your own. You need to be independent because you are alone. No one is on your side. Dad is so happy that he wouldn't understand, Shawn and Reese are only teenagers and haven't dealt with anything of the sort, and Elara is paid to fix people.

Does this make me a problem? She asked.

Just stop, OK, just stop. Stop feeling bad for yourself. Stop trying to shoulder all your problems onto everyone else. Ignore your feelings, they don't help.

Clarke closed her eyes and ran her hand through her hair. Tears had begun to well up in her eyes and she didn't want her dad to see her cry. She quickly got up from the couch and ran to her bedroom. Her dad looked up as she left and set his newspaper down. He debated going to see Clarke, but thought it would be better to give her a bit of time before going up.

August 16-2025

"Clarke! Time to go to London," her dad called up the stairs. When Clarke didn't answer, he climbed the stairs and knocked on the girls' door. "Clarke? Are you in there?"

Clarke opened the door. "I don’t want to go today."

"You don't have a choice, Clarke. Come on, we are going to be late." He said it firmly and Clarke had no choice but to listen. "I need to do some errands while you have your session, so you can make your way to Elara's room by yourself, alright?"

"I guess."

"See you in an hour, Clarke," her dad called as he left her by the old department store. Clarke entered the phone booth and got her pin.

Clarke bypassed the front desk and made her way down one of the hallways on the ground floor. She looked into some of the room and saw people with various illnesses and problems. One had a turnips for hands and another had wrappings around his whole body. She wondered how they had gotten themselves here, whether it was a prank or something more serious.

Then, she took the elevator to the first floor where she noticed the sign for 'Serious Bites'. She didn't really want to see all the bites on the witches and wizards so she occupied herself on this floor by watching the Healers bustling around. At one point, she sat herself down in the waiting room and looked through the glass at them.

After a while, she headed up to the second floor, which was the floor of magical diseases. She saw some with Dragon Pox and some with Scrofungulus, which looked pretty nasty. She spent a while on this floor learning about different diseases, but not knowing what they were called unless a Healer announced that "Billy, the one with the Vanishing Sickness, wants his lunch now." She would then go find Billy and observe his symptoms.

Clarke skipped the third floor and moved on to the fourth. This one held the long-term patients and there were far more visitors. She didn't stay long on this floor because time was almost up and she wanted to grab a snack from the fifth floor before going down to meet her dad.

She ate a poppy seed muffin on her way down to the ground floor. She had a few minutes before her session would be up so she quickly finished the muffin and put away the garbage so her dad wouldn't see.

"Clarke! Over here," her dad called. He had just arrived and was walking towards her. "How was your session?" He asked when he finally reached her.

"It was alright. Just like the other ones," Clarke replied.

"I'm glad you went even though you didn't want to earlier. Let's go home."

Clarke's triumph was not long lived. The next day, a brown owl came into the kitchen and landed on the table in front of where the Olverins where eating lunch. Their dad picked it up and gave the owl some toast.

It was addressed to Mr. Julien Olverin. From Thaddeus Orwin. He flipped open the letter and read it quiclkly. Then he looked up at Clarke, disappointment written on his face. "Clarke, we need to talk." He motioned for her to come with him outside.

Once the door was closed, he turned on Clarke. "I can't believe you skipped therapy! What were you thinking?"

He paused for a moment to stare at Clarke. He was expecting a rational explanation. "I…I don't want to go anymore," she finally said.

"You don't want to go? Clarke, you can't just skip. People care about you. You've been doing so well. Elara told me you are making good progress. I want you to go to your room and think about why you didn't go. I expect a good explanation. I am going to request the next available time for a session with Elara."

"You can't make me go!" Clarke protested.

"I am your dad, Clarke. It's my job to know what's best for you" He wasn't doing a good job of hiding his anger. "Go to your room," his voice didn't allow for more argument.

Clarke sulked to her room and laid down on her bed. Why should he make her go to therapy? Why couldn't she just be left alone? This would never have happened with the Remmingtons. That thought brought back the familiar ache in her body. She missed them. She missed mom's baking, dad's complaining about work, and Tripp's teasing. She just wanted everything to go back to the way it was before.

August 23-2025

The next Saturday, her dad didn't let Clarke out of his sight until she entered Elara's room that afternoon. They hadn't been able to get a session for the one Clarke missed, so they continued with the regular schedule.

Clarke didn't talk to anyone most of the week. She felt awful. Her dad was upset with her and Elara was frustrated that they weren't getting anywhere. Shawn and Reese seemed a little put off by what she had done.

You have become a problem again. You let them all down. You don't deserve help after what you did. You can't ask for help during this session.

"Good afternoon, Clarke," Elara greeted her, once again. Elara watched Clarke sit down. Her shoulders seemed to slump and her eyes looked tired. "Are you okay?" She asked, tenderly.

"Yep."

"I need to apologize to you. The past few weeks, I haven't been very considerate of your desires. I am not going to ask you about Tripp. Whenever you want to talk about him, I am here, ready to listen."

"Okay."

"I guess I can't expect an more than that for an answer," she laughed. "That's alright though, I understand. Was it just that I was pushing you so much that you didn't come, or was there another reason?"

"I just think I'm done," she frowned at what she was saying. "I don't mean to offend you, but I don't think this is helping me." She looked down at her hands fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Don't say that, you're making her angry. You're ruining this.

"You don't offend me. Some people think therapy works for them and others don't. I just want you to know that I am always here if you ever need to talk, don't hesitate to reach out. Are you sure with this decision, you look hesitant?" Elara encouraged.

"I'm sure," Clarke replied, a little more confidently, though she wasn't sure at all.

For the rest of the session, they talked about what Clarke could do on her own and how she would go about life without the extra help. Clarke got a few papers to take home and soon she left with Elara to talk to her dad about it.

"Mr. Olverin? Can I talk to you out in the hallway for a moment?" Elara asked, peeking her head around the doorway, into the waiting room.

"Sure," he replied.

"As with all therapy, it is never a good idea to force therapy as it could backfire onto the counselee and hurt more than help. Clarke has expressed her desire to not proceed with anymore therapy and I wanted to ask you if you are alright with that."

"I don't want her to get hurt. Do you think this is really a good idea?" He asked.

"I do. We can keep in touch, checking up now and then to see how she is doing and I told her that my door is always open if she ever wants to talk."

He thought about that for a moment, leaning against the wall and looking at Clarke who didn't look back. "Alright." He felt very worn by this. In all the times he thought about Clarke coming back to them, he had never expected Clarke to drop therapy. Had he failed in some way, what should he have done better?

"I have your contact info and I trust you have mine?"

"Yes."

"Well, Clarke, it was good to meet you and hear your story. I hope your next school year goes well. You are strong, Clarke, remember that," she said, kindly, to Clarke.

"Thank you," Clarke replied. The voice in her head was intrusive, it made her do and say things she didn't want to do. Things like dropping out of therapy.

August 25-2025

Clarke woke up on Monday morning with the thought of Hogwarts. Only a few days left till she would be travelling back there. She made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen where only her father sat. He stood up when he saw her. "The last week we have together. I'm going to miss you when you go back to school," her dad said as he held her in a sideways hug.

"Please don't," Clarke replied, trying to shrug his arm off.

"What?" He asked, turning to look at her. "What's wrong with me giving you a hug?"

"I just…don't feel comfortable," she said, quietly. Her dad wouldn't let go. She got a flashback to when Tripp trapped her in his arms almost two months ago. The memory paralyzed her for a moment, not allowing her to breath. She couldn't escape. She hated being trapped. Trapped by those who were supposed to be kind.

"I've waited almost eleven years to be able to hold you again and now you don't even want me to," his voice cracked.

"Did you ever think that I don't even know you? That you are a stranger to me? How can I hug someone I don't know?"

"I'm your dad," he repeated. "I made you." He tried to take her hand, but she backed away. "Clarke, listen to me. You don't need to be scared of me." His voice was becoming more and more firm and Clarke couldn't stop thinking about Tripp. "You know what? You want me to leave you alone? Fine." He left the kitchen, slamming the door.

Clarke felt both relieved and guilty. She didn't move. How does that work? For someone to seem so kind and loving, but then they do something that shows their true self? If I couldn't see that Tripp wasn't who he said he was, how can I ever trust if I'm seeing the real side of anyone? She asked herself. Maybe no one's kindness can be trusted. After all, both dad and Tripp seemed nice, but they wouldn't listen to me.

September 1-2025

"You ready, Shawn?" His dad asked. Shawn nodded and got a running start before disappearing into the wall. "Your turn, Reese." Reese also made a running start and disappeared. "Come on, Clarke, your turn. What are you doing?" He looked at Clarke's scrunched up face.

Clarke swallowed and didn't look at her dad. She had forgotten where she was. She'd been gripping her cart so hard, her knuckled were white. Not again, stop! Stop thinking about it, please! For the numerous time in the past few days, she couldn't get the image out of her head of Tripp holding her in the Remmingtons house. She had never felt so powerless. Tripp hadn't hurt her, he had just robbed her of the little control she still had in that situation. And when her dad had hugged her, that brought back the memory in full force. It made her feel weird. Gross. She couldn't explain it.

Without saying anything, Clarke passed through the wall and her dad followed her. Clarke was about to board the train when her dad spoke behind her, "Clarke, can I talk to you for a second?" She shrugged, but stepped away from the train's door. "Clarke, what's going on? You don't talk to any of us and you stay in your room most of the time. Talk to me, please," he pleaded with her.

"I-I can't." She felt helpless.

"Why not? I thought you'd be happy coming back home! Maybe you don't appreciate how long we've waited and how much we've done for you," he accused. Then he tried to soften his tone, "I'm sorry, that wasn't right to say."

But the damage had been done. Clarke knew he was disappointed in her. She had let him down again and again. She wasn't the daughter he was expecting her to be. "I have a train to catch," she replied, quietly, as she turned to go. No matter what I do, it isn't enough.