Jill walked through the thick, vinyl door into an exquisite room. It looked like a high-class beauty parlor. The wallpaper was yellow, dull but bright at the same time, with lacy, silvery patterns running through it. In every corner, full, green, flourishing plants hung. The couches and chairs appeared new - they were conservative colors, and impeccably clean. Several small tables shone, their wood polished and nick-free, decorated with magazines, the subscriptions current.

"Jill?" the receptionist announced.

"Yes?"

"The doctor will see you now."

Jill stood up, glanced once more at her surroundings, then entered another vinyl door.

A small woman with short, jet-black hair sat in a large armchair. Her complexion was olive-bronze - Filipino or Chinese, Jill guessed. She wore a dress so elegant Jill had never seen anything like it before in the stores. It was satin, with a pattern of gold leaf set into the fabric. Jill looked into Xaxia's eyes and was distracted by the thick bands of charcoal eyeliner that came to a sudden stop halfway across her round lids.

"Do you feel comfortable with me?" the doctor asked.

Jill hadn't yet come to any conclusion regarding this matter.

"I guess so," she answered, beginning to feel anything but comfortable.

"Are you sure you feel comfortable with me as your psychiatrist?" she asked again, her dark eyes penetrating.

"Yes," Jill said, squirming noticeably in her seat.

The doc proceeded to administer a questionnaire concerning Jill's personal, family, psychiatric, and medical histories.

Halfway through the long ordeal, the phone on the stand next to the doctor's armchair rang. Dr. X. became immediately animated, chattering away into the receiver at high speed, in a foreign language.

Jill had a sudden urge to leave.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she said.

The psychiatrist gestured with her hand, indicating with her finger to turn the corner once outside the door. Her speech was never interrupted.

In the Ladies room, Jill looked around at the bright yellow tiling, complemented by olive sink and toilet. Jill opened the medicine cabinet and was surprised to see a wide array of bottles containing various tablets and capsules. One was labeled "Valium"; Jill thrust it into her pocket, along with a large plastic bottle of Tylenol, and some free samples of antidepressants. She returned to X's office.

Another ten long minutes passed, and Xaxia was finally off the phone. Jill had grown extremely restless listening to a language she didn't understand. A person can only be so rude, the young girl thought.

"I'm going to call you "Chop Chop," Jill said. "What is Chop Chop?" Xaxia replied. "That was the Spirit's sidekick...in the comic books." “But what is Chop Chop? Who is she?" Jill began to squirm. X stared into her face, at Jill's acne, which she was very self-conscious and sensitive about. "Chop Chop is a cartoon character," she said again. X was relentless. Jill didn’t know what more to say. She was surprised that the doctor had understood this to be a racist joke and hadn't expected her to retaliate. "What is Chop Chop?" Xaxia demanded. She glared at Jill's marred face until the fifteen-year-old winced and writhed in pain.

"Now Jill," she said, turning again towards the young girl, "Your parents tell me you've been having troubles at home and at school. You've been behaving badly? I've been informed about destructive behavior? I would like to suggest that you stay at the Adolescent Unit. It's not far from here, you can live and go to school there, with people your own age…"

Jill's heart began beating faster. She wasn't ready to trade the security of her home for a cold institution. The situation seemed strange - she was in the royal palace with the Queen of Korea, and at the same time enmeshed in danger. The looming threat of asylums and torture dungeons was never more real to her. She had images of tall fences with barbed wire, and armed guards pacing up and down the grounds carrying guns and machetes.

"I'm not destructive," Jill said, trying to control her shaky voice. "I don't think I need to go to the Adolescent Unit. I've become a lot more mature lately."

"Yes, I see," Xaxia replied. "Well, I'll have a talk with your parents, and we'll discuss this again next month."

Okay, Jill said, racing out the door. For the moment, the terror was past, but Jill quickly grabbed her coat, and kept a quick pace all the way out of the building, and down the street to the bus stop, where she caught her breath. She immediately began rehearsing a speech in her mind.

"So how was your visit with Doctor Xaxia?" Eve asked Jill, as she entered the house.

"I don't think I'm comfortable with her," Jill replied to her mother. "Her waiting room looks like a beauty salon, she wears too much makeup, and her English is poor. I'd prefer a different psychiatrist, there are too many barriers to working with her. "

"Well, say goodbye to a hundred dollars of hard-earned cash," her father said.

"Never mind that, Donald," Eve said. "Jill needs help, and she needs a suitable doctor."

"I don't really need much help," Jill said. "But I'd be willing to see a different psychiatrist if I have to."

"Well, okay, Jill," Donald said. "My therapist recommended one to me today, a Doctor Horowitz. What do ya think, Eve?"

"That sounds fine… if you really don't think you can get along with Dr. Xaxia, Jill. I'm glad you're open about this, and making an effort, Jill…"

"Sure," the young girl replied. "I just don't think X. is suitable."

"Do you want me to call Dr. Horowitz for you tomorrow?"

"Yes, please do," Jill said.

Donald agreed.

Eve was pleased.

"Good, it's settled then," Jill said, concealing a breath of relief. "I'm going to my room now."

She hastily made her way upstairs, filled a cup with water from the sink, and downed a Valium.