Narrative Essay On The Deprime Test

It was 2122 at a grey high school, which's name escapes me, when the incident happened during the Deprime Test. I was a young college student at the time, attending to earn experience. As a young adult, I understood well that the test played an important part in helping the depressed. Locating depression early helped in a time where entire graduation classes diminished by half. On that day, I couldn’t find the right room and asked for directions. The kind kid was a freshman. She accompanied me to the room and disappeared with a smile on her face. A polite, happy person. No doubt she would register a 0 on a scale of 0-5 the Deprime Test. Students came to the room, in order by their last name and year. Seniors A-S first, then T-Z. Then Juniors and so on and so forth.
They would walk into the classroom and then escorted across

Lola Zachmann. The one that helped me earlier that day. She greeted me with a smile and shook my hand. As we walked to the chair, she became more nervous and fidgeted with her finger rings.
“Don’t worry,” I remember saying, “it’ll be over with before you know it.”
The girl was still nervous but she sat down and allowed the other doctors strap her into the chair. She took the pill and we all waited to see the number appear on the screen. A 1 blipped up, surprising me. This cheerful girl? Surely not. I almost went around to undo the straps, having thought the test was over when the 1 flipped to a 2.
Lola’s smile faltered. She shifted her eyes around the room before she focused them on her lap. The number 3 switched on the screen. A strangled cry escaped her and she struggled to breathe. Tears threatened to spill over onto Lola’s cheeks at the time. Her glassy eyes glanced up at me before settling down on the door. “No…” Lola croaked out, “Don’t leave. Please.... Don’t leave…” A soft cry escaped her, the tears fell off her face. Her body shook and she gripped the armrest. A 4 blipped onto the