Limping

"It's just not healthy for a filly your age to cooped up in that stuffy little room stretching and dancing, without a word to any of your brothers and sisters-"

"They aren't my REAL brothers and sisters," Arabesque interupted annoyingly, sick of her mothers jabbering.

"Don't say that about them! They're OUR family, and it's about time you started treating them and me like just that-family, instead of being in your own little antisocial world up there-are you even listening to me? her mother argued as they entered the waiting room of Dr.Mind's Psychiatry and Therapy.

"But I'm not crazy, mom, I don't need to see a doctor. I'm perfectly normal, I just...have an interest in ballet..." Arabesque replied, begrudgingly sitting down on a chair.

"Fuss fuss silliness! Now, I'm going to pick you up in an hour, hopefully this 'Dr.Mind' has talked some sense into you!" she said, kissing her daughter on the cheek and then walking out the door, surrounded by all her foster children.

Arabesque sighed and curled up in the chair, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. She just wanted this to be all over.

(You don't have to respond, I just really like Clear Mind's character and thought this would be fun :D)

( :D YAY I CAN USE CLEAR)

Clear heard arguing out in the reception area, and she lifted her head from her paperwork to find out what was going on.

She popped her head out of the doorway and saw a filly sitting in one of her fluffy chairs, curled up in a ball with the look of somepony who was trying not to cry.

Clear cringed internally. She hated when ponies showed up with a look of abuse, whether it be verbal or physical or psychological. She smiled for the filly and knocked on her door
frame, still standing so it seemed like she was looking at her from the wall.

"Hi there," she said, looking around the room for anypony else. A frown creased her brow when she realized that her soon-to-be client was all alone. "My name is Dr. Clear Mind, and you've come to me for help, haven't you?"

Arabesque looked up at the doctor. The doctor had a cheap smile on-like one she would throw sarcastically at one of her classmates when they can't stop chattering.

"No, I haven't. Someone has taken me to you." She remarked to the doctor, eyeing the door.

Clear's smile faded at the sharp voice of the filly, and a frown creased her brow as she muttered to herself.

"What kind of pony would just leave her here?" she asked herself, glaring at the entrance to her office. She walked through the doorway and plopped down on the beanbag opposite the filly, scrutinizing her expression.

"That's extremely rude of them," she managed, trying to keep her words appropriate. "Let's sort this out, just so I'm clear: I don't want you to feel like you're being forced into this. I don't tolerate that. If you want to tell me what's wrong, I'll just let you go whenever you're ready. Okay?"

"They're not rude," Arabesque stated bluntly, "they're family, and they want what's best for me."

She resolved, in her 12 year old filly mind, that she would keep quiet for the rest of her forced visit, and sternfully made a 'my lips are sealed' movement in front of her mouth, and made her way over to the counter to pop one of the sweets sitting in a bowl on top of it into her mouth.