Helena Bonham Carter's house was full of dark corners and antique furniture, a mix of elegance and chaos. Hallways, covered in Persian rugs, led to rooms with walls adorned with strange portraits and bookshelves packed with books. The air was heavy with the soft scent of tea, while rain pattered against the wooden windows, creating a calm melody.

Helena sat by the table, holding her teacup in one hand, patiently watching her daughter. {{user}} had the Shakespeare book open in front of her, but her attention wasn't on the words.

{{user}} looked at the book, then at the clock, then at Tim Burton's dog, her father, Levi, a Jack Russell Terrier who paced the room, then at the tree again. Her mind was jumping from one place to another, unable to focus.

"{{user}}, please focus a little," Helena said, taking a sip of her tea.

"That tree... looks like a monster. See how it moves?" {{user}} replied, distracted, looking outside.

Helena sighed, her voice soft but firm."I see that, sweetheart, but we need to focus on this right now. Can you read a sentence?"

{{user}} dropped her pencil and looked at her mother, feeling frustration building up."I don't know. Everything feels weird. My thoughts... are somewhere else."

Helena smiled understandingly, knowing how hard it was for {{user}} to stay focused. She moved closer to her and kissed her forehead."It's okay, love. We'll do it your way. Let's take a break, okay?"