"HI. I'M Isabella Diaz." The girl introduced as she walked up to the front desk of the probation centre. She looked at the woman behind the desk, who didn't even meet her eyes when she replied.

"Fill out this form," The receptionist said dryly, sliding along a piece of paper and pen, "We'll call your name when a probation officer is ready to see you."

Isabella hesitated before walking towards an empty chair in the waiting room. Her eyes scanned along the survey, which was filled with boxes for her to tick: Is her home life stable? Is she employed? Is she apart of a gang?

She began ticking and crossing boxes, putting in her email address, home address, and other information about herself. Isabella wished her mom was here with her— she knew that she told her mom to stay home, but Isabella didn't mean it. She felt so vulnerable in a place like this, almost as if she didn't belong here... but she did.

Isabella looked up when the door in front of her opened and a woman in a suit walked out, followed by a young girl. The girl was instantly familiar and Isabella recognised her to be Tory Nichols— her enemy.

Tory was the reason why Isabella ended up in juvie.

Isabella slammed her clipboard onto the chair next to her, before standing to her feet quickly. She approached Tory; the girl had a smirk on her face,

"Go ahead, hit me." Tory remarked, "They'll send you straight back to juvie."

Isabella shot back, her fists clenching, "You're the reason I was even in juvie."

"I recall you putting a knife to my throat, actually," Tory retorted, "So, you only have yourself to blame, Diaz."

"You're the one who started it, bitch." Isabella said, "All because of a boy."

Tory scoffed, "You wouldn't get it. Would you?"

"What's that suppose to mean?" Isabella questioned through gritted teeth, "Just because I'm gay, it doesn't mean that I don't know how relationships work." She paused, "So what? Miguel kissed Sam. Big deal. You're relationship only lasted a few days anyway."

"You're unbelievable," Tory narrowed her eyes at her in disgust, "We're meant to be on the same side, you know? Everyone else got to go back to normal, but here we are eating shit—"

"Don't compare our situations." Isabella interrupted sternly, "I am nothing like you."

Tory remarked, "You're right, we're not the same. Because I don't go around threatening people with knives."

"No, you just use a fucking spiked bracelet." Isabella snapped.

"Isabella Diaz?" The voice of the suited woman interrupted their argument, causing Tory to walk away and Isabella to follow the woman into her office. The woman shook her hand, "Good afternoon, Isabella, my name is Claire Davies."

"Hi." The girl replied, before taking a seat on the opposite side of her desk; she passed her the clipboard of the ticked boxes she had filled out.

"So, this is only a quick meeting today, but we can always arrange more in case something occurs or you have any questions." Claire explained, "So, Isabella, what happened to place you in juvie? This might seem like a broad question, but I want to hear it from your perspective. So we can work at your own pace."

Isabella hesitated, "Uh, I joined karate last year with my brother."

"And did you like it?" Claire urged.

"Yeah. For a while, it was really good for me." Isabella explained cautiously, "I always struggled with 'finding my purpose' in life. I'm have ADHD, so I always felt different, but karate made me feel like I could fit in. But lately, it's just been making me more angry. I quit, which I didn't want to do, but I feel like removing the problem will help me."

"I respect that you're trying to help yourself, Isabella." Claire nodded, "Why was it making you angry?"

"I always felt like I was in second place." The girl replied, "I got second place in the All Valley last year, I'm second place to my brother, I'm second place with my friends."

The woman asked curiously, "What made you feel second place?"

"Well, I was physically second place in a tournament. But, the feeling started way before that." Isabella continued, "I hadn't been taking my medication, so it made act different, apparently. So, I started to feel different. I started selling my meds at school for money— I don't know why, but I just wanted to feel needed."

Claire nodded, like she understood, which felt weird to Isabella because she was always alone in her thoughts. The woman urged, "Selling your pills. Did it stop there?"

"No, uh, I used the money for myself. But, I used some of my money to buy a penknife," Isabella added quickly, "I don't know why. I never had the intentions of hurting someone. I just wanted to feel protected against the other dojos."

"It's okay to not always understand. You're here to get better. I'm here to help you. The more I know, the better." Claire reassured, "What ended up happening with the knives?"

"There was drama between my brother and his girlfriend. He cheated on her with his ex-girlfriend, so the girls started fighting at school." Isabella said, "I got involved because she was hurting my friends and my brother. I got so angry that... I pulled the penknife to her throat. I wasn't going to do it. I would never hurt someone like that. I don't know why I did it. It was stupid."

"You recognise your mistakes, that's good." Claire responded, "How long did you spend in juvie?"

"Nearly five weeks," The girl replied, "I did community service to help me get out earlier."

Claire nodded, "And, your family history? Any historical violence, or anything that could've linked you to learn this behaviour?"

"Uh, I live with my mom, my grandma visits often, and my brother." Isabella explained hesitantly, "My dad has always been out of the picture. My mom never talks about him, so I don't know."

Claire asked curiously, "Would you say that your home life is stable?"

"I mean, we're getting by, so yeah." Isabella said, "We don't live in a mansion, but we still get food and shelter."

Claire nodded, closing the file she was writing in. She stood up, "Okay, that's all for today. I'll look at the information I have and we can work out what's best for you. I'm thinking community service is probably the best route for you, but I'll email you with any further suggestions."

"Thank you." The girl shook her hand again.

"No, thank you." Claire smiled, "It takes strength to even show up to one of these meetings, so you've already completed a huge first step in your journey." She paused, "For now, one of your terms for your probation is therapy. Are you able to seek a therapist?"

Isabella nodded, "Yeah. I, uh, I already have one."