Swiftcurrent Creek Let me go, I wanna die in the disco

Reverie's expression tightened slightly at the word. Depression. She had heard it, yes, from the mouths of tormentors.
Yes. Depression, neurosis, psychosis, hysteria - everyone thinks it's something different, Reverie listed these terms a little numbly. I've seen so many healers from so many places. They were all - horrible! Well, not all of them, She conceded quickly on that, because she had quite liked a few of the healers her parents had brought. But nothing helped. Perhaps because they'd been so impatient, she thought. They always sent away the healers who said to give her time, and kept the ones who...
Reverie bit her lip again and forced herself to look at Moss, to study her pretty features instead. Something simple, something grounding.