"Hey Peter!"

Wendy recognises the joyful voice. There's only one person in the school who calls her Peter, and that's none other than Joy. Wendy thinks Joy's name fits her personality perfectly.

Joy settles beside Wendy and encircles her arms around the latter's tiny frame. Wendy doesn't mind, for she finds Joy endearing. Joy, Wendy thinks, is an unavoidable annoyance, yet harmless like a housefly she tolerates but could flick off at a whim.

"I'm not Peter, Joy."

"I know," Joy laughs. "So what have you been doing, Peter Pan?"

"Unlike you, I actually have some work to do."

Joy gasps, "Are you mocking me?"

"That depends on how you perceive it."

Joy huffs, “You’re no fun, Peter.”

“You’re bothering me, Joy.”

Joy clicks her tongue. Why does Wendy always have something to rebut? Her eyes travels to the worksheet Wendy is currently doing. "Can you help me with my homework after school?"

Wendy shakes her head. "I have an appointment later."

Joy breaks into a mischievous smile. "Can I tag along? I really love to admire your doctor's face."

"Then you need to pay her $300."

"That's daylight robbery, Peter."

"Tell that to the doctor," Wendy replies matter-of-factly.

Joy purses her lips. "I'm heading to the cafeteria. Do you want anything?"

"I want school to end quickly," Wendy quips.

"A logical answer but totally out of context!"

Wendy grins. "You're boring."

Joy raises her hands in defeat. "Alright Peter, you win. Have fun with your homework and send my regards to my Bae."

The taller girl gives a wink and Wendy rolls her eyes.

“Good afternoon, doctor,” Wendy greets Irene as she sinks into her seat. She places a stalk of sunflower on the psychiatrist’s desk. “Specially for you.” She flashes a grin.

“Thank you,” Irene says, her lips curling up. “What’s the special occasion?”

“I just felt like spending some money today,” Wendy says. She takes a pencil and a blank sheet of paper, and starts doodling. “My peers called me a psychopath again,” she casually informs Irene.

Irene is alarmed by the new information. She worries about the things Wendy might have possibly done. “Then what did you do, Wendy?” she cautiously asks.

Wendy starts drawing Olaf on the paper. Winter is coming soon. And it happens to be her favourite season. “Bursting out with angry words is always so much easier than maintaining one’s dignity and self-respect. But, giving no reaction often has the satisfying side effect of further pissing the person off who’s stirring with me,” she says. A wide smile appears on her face after she finishes her drawing. She thinks she has just drawn a masterpiece. She shows it to Irene and asks, “Do you like it?”

“It’s a pretty drawing, Wendy.”

The brunette smiles and continues, “Ignorance is bliss. I didn’t want to stoop that low so I didn’t react to them. Which makes me think about something... Why are foul words created if you’re aware that those words aren’t pleasant to be said to or about someone?”

Irene bites her lip as she ponders Wendy’s question. “Honestly, I do wonder why too.”

“The world will probably be a boring place if everyone is a good person, don’t you think so?” It was a rhetorical question. Wendy risks a quick glance at the psychiatrist who is furiously penning down whatever words Wendy has said to her.

The brunette inwardly sighs and folds her paper into an airplane. “Hey Mr Airplane,” she utters as she plays with it.

That finally caught the attention of the psychiatrist. “Is there any country you would love to visit, Wendy?”

Wendy stares at the circular window. Her brain is in full gear but she isn’t thinking about which country she wants to visit. “Winter is coming.”

“Indeed it is.”

“You haven’t placed any snow angel shaped items in this room.”

“My bad, I haven’t had the time to find them. Maybe you can help me?”

Wendy begins to hum a rhythm. “I don’t know if I should be grateful to you for saving me.”

“Did something trigger-”

“My suicidal thoughts?” Wendy smiles weakly. “No.” She throws the paper airplane, and watches it fall onto the ground.

Wendy remembers the time she tried to drown herself in the sea because she couldn’t handle the voices in her head. Auditory hallucinations, as the experts call it. Irene, coincidentally, happened to be jogging along the stretch of the beach at 5 in the morning, and managed to save the brunette from drowning.

In her entire life, there’s this blackness creeping into the corners of her life until it turns grey and dirty. Her insides are burned out. If someone cuts her open, all one can find is anger. Anger- it follows her everywhere. It sits on her chair. It lies on her bed. It watches her when she sleeps. Her schoolmates think she’s a psychopath, and she’s outcasted.

Wendy feels her heart throb like a fresh bruise.

“How much of what’s wrong with me, that I should take the blame for?”

“Wendy-”

“Is it ironic that their whispers are louder than the shouts in my head?” Wendy wonders aloud. “Oh by the way, my bundle of Joy told me to send her regards to you.”

Irene chuckles, “Tell her I say hi.”

“She’ll be ecstatic to know that,” Wendy beams. “Can she tag along next time?”

“You want to bring her?”

“I don’t want to, but I think I should return her a favour.”

“What favour, Wendy?”

“She’s been doing a huge favour by being my friend. I should do something in return for her.”

“Wendy,” Irene sighs, “I’m sure Joy is sincere in being your friend.”

“Of course I don’t doubt her sincerity. But she’s done a lot for me so I should too.”

“There are other ways to return her favour.”

“Like baking cupcakes for her daily or something?”

“Not daily, but that’s a good idea. It would be lovely if you could bake some for me too, Wendy,” Irene jokes lightly.

Wendy laughs, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Now you’re bein