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Futility

The girl pulls a pen from her pocket & begins to write on the stark wall. The mother gasps in horror, but the therapist holds up his hand & rises.
“This is common, especially at this age,” he explains calmly, going up behind the teen & in one fluid motion has her in a near stranglehold, one hand firmly planted over her mouth. He continues over the girl’s muffled screams of protest, “I must ask you to step outside, ma’am. Forced application is usually very difficult for parents, but it’s the only way she will ever comply.”
To the girl’s dismay, the mother nods & compliantly shuffles out. “Eh-ee oh!” she shrieks, though her cries are supressed. As she struggles the therapist side-steps to his desk, reaching for the sedative pen applicator. Before she can react the teen cringes at a pinprick in her left leg. The sedative works quickly; she feels herself growing fuzzy.
As she crumples the therapist looks down on her ruefully. “I hate to do it,” he mumbles, headgear in hand, “but this is just the way things are.”

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