“How are you today, Logan?” » Sharon, my therapist, asks me. My mom tells me not to call her that, but that's what she is, right? I still dig into my life through these hour-a-week sessions of pure torture; trying to get to the root of my problems and make me the happy boy I was at ten. My mother is never home, why does she still care what I am? Isn’t it okay to grow and change? Over the past seven years, this cheerful boy has transformed into what I am now. What am I? Who am I? This is the question we are all trying to understand about ourselves. “As always; schools are a drag, parents are a nuisance. I answer. “Did the exercises I gave you help you with your anger issues? » "I don't know, I haven't had a reason to use them yet." » "That's great Logan! These sessions must be useful, your mother will be delighted. “Yeah, I bet she would, but she wouldn't if she knew I skipped school all week, which is why I'm not mad. My father ran away from his problems, why is it so wrong to run away from mine? My mother got pregnant when she was 18 and my father couldn't accept the responsibility of taking care of us. he tries to reconnect one day, I swear he will see the worst of my anger issues Sharon's speech continues to drag on, blah, blah, blah I finally walk out of the room I tell him I. have to clear my head as I walk out of the building and sit on the steps overlooking the busy Manhattan street. "I'm glad to see I'm not the only screwed up kid." said a soft voice behind me. turns around to find the source of the words My eyes slowly look up, processing what I see A 5'6 girl is standing in the corner, wearing combat boots, a black mini skirt with fish... ... middle of paper...... Amanda nods at the oncoming train that just pulled out of the station, you got I have to be kidding. But what do I honestly have to lose? “Just follow my lead.” » Amanda says as the train passes us; one cart passes, then ten carts, and finally 14 carts pass when Amanda says to run and jump on the open cart. I grab the lower ledge and pull myself up with Amanda right next to me. I gasp as I stand up and look around. The sky is just at this point in the night where the sun has set, but the sky is still lit by the descending glow. The wind blows my long hair around my face in irregular patterns. Another thing my mother hates about me, my hair. Amanda throws her hands in the air and shouts "Leave all your problems behind Logan, this is our peaceful place!" This is what I do, nothing can follow me now, my problems are long behind me in Manhattan; school, my parents and my psychologist. I am free.