Too Weird to Live, Too Rare to Die!-Scarletta and Harley
Scarletta stepped lightly on the front path of the mansion, looking up at the large white walls and the trees, until she finally came to the door. She knew her new therapist lived here, and that her initials were 'H.Q'., but nothing more.
She'd found her through a magazine (a strange way to find mental health experts, she knew), and had arranged a beginning session with her. Nerves crept up her spine as she gazed up at the door (being unable to be eye-level due to her height of 4'9).
With shaking hands marked with tattoos of treble clefs, she pulled down the hem of the minty green dress that matched her eye, and knocked on the door, unknowing of what would be found behind it.














