"But she'll be normal? She'll be okay?" I stop drawing. I have to be normal?

"Yes, she should be. Sometimes, the children have mood swings when they come off their medicine in the afternoon, but it won't be a problem at school."

"What about her problems falling asleep?" My mom pauses.

"Will I still hear them whispering at me?" I look to the doctor, and I can see that my gaze unnerves him. I avert my eyes. He clears his throat loudly before answering.

"I- I can't be totally sure. In any case, they won't get any worse. There is a high probability that they will cease." He looks down at me and smiles in what is probably meant to be a kind manner. "Its just your overactive imagination, sweetheart."

I do not bother to hide my snort. "Tell them that." I decide that I do not like this smiling man. I think he is an idiot.

I go back to my drawing, adding in thick black lines over the rainbow hues. My parents trade a look that is partially amused, partially distressed.

"Start her on this tomorrow." The doctor scrawls across a yellow sheet of paper and hands it to my dad.

I look at it for maybe a second before turning away. I add a last touch to my drawing before I get up to leave with my parents. I see the doctor stoop over and pick it up before looking after me with a confused expression on his face. I smile and wave, to be polite.

Form the corner of my eye, I see him toss the image of the angel-man in the trash can in a quick, deliberate gesture.