Barbie || Trixya

-1-

The room was too neat.

Crisp white walls ran on either side of me, followed by crisp white floor and ceiling. There was no cheap, crappy background music that was usually found in the small town doctors I'd encountered. No escape from my thoughts. Bubbles from the water cooler rose, and broke the awful quiet; the atmosphere was cold, and even the silence seemed to judge me. My hands shook to the beating of my own heart, and my breaths were sharp and hollow.

I sat on a cold, metal seat, in a cold waiting room, surrounded by cold, bitter people. They knew what I'd done. They could read me like a book.

Keeping my head down, I clutched my beige trousers, and hoped to God that I would stop shaking.

"Yes, thank you, that'll be satisfactory." A stern woman told my mother, as they exited the cold, white office.

I nervously met my mother's eyes, and she quickly looked away. A burning occurred in my throat, and I felt like I was going to puke. I was such a disappointment to her, and this time I'd really pushed too far. She hated me.

"How soon can it be?" she asked, speaking as quietly as she could. Her own voice betrayed her, however, as it was so quiet that I could hear them clearly.

"Usually, it can be up to a couple months, but I can see you and your daughter are struggling, and I wanted to make it as easy as possible for you. I can move it right up to this week, seen as she's an urgent patient." the woman replied.

"That's so amazing, thank you, I'm so grateful. We need help." my mother replied, crinkling up her eyes in a genuine smile. I hadn't seen her that genuine since I had won my first Spelling Bee.

I didn't understand, but I sent a sharp, hateful look towards the woman. She was a white coat, and I usually had bad experiences with white coats that talked down to me. She noticed my eyes burning on her, and flashed a nervous, fake smile.

"Katie?" the woman started, gesturing to me. I was the only one waiting apart from the receptionist, so I assumed she must mean me.

I stood up, my thin, shaking legs barely able to hold me. Though her referring to me as Katie bugged me, I didn't want to speak up and correct her. It just showed how unprofessional it was that she didn't know my name. She lead me and my mother into down the hall. The latter tried to hold my hand on the short journey there, but I simply refused, and shoved them in my pockets. I knew something was up.

"Everything's gonna be okay." she soothed, stroking my back, as the woman made a phone call. "We just think that you might need a break from everything that's going on."

I flinched, pulling away, and looking her directly in the face. My eyes brimmed with tears. Time and time again I had come home from school crying, and had hidden in my room. She never understood how bad the bullying had gotten. Naively, she believed that if she sent in a complaint to the school, that they would do something about it, and it would stop. Nay, my school was old fashioned, and didn't believe it was as bad as I described it to be. I was ruining other students reputations, they told me.

It had continued for a whole year, others gradually seeing how far they could push me. And I guess I just snapped.

The woman placed the phone back in its holder, and turned to me with a fake smile. "Your mother is right, Katie, there's no reason to worry. Think of it this way - when you trip and hurt yourself, you don't leave to wound open to bleed and cause you more pain, do you?" she asked, looking down at me. I wasn't short at all, but this woman bent down to me like I was a child. When I didn't reply, and gave her a blank look, she continued. "No, you put a bandage over it, and it will heal fast. Now, you've tripped and fallen, and your mother and I think it's necessary to put a bandage around it, to help you."

She made no sense, and it was if she felt powerful by taking to me like I was five. I was old enough to make my own decisions and take the hard truth, I was nearly an adult, for God's sake, and this woman was talking to me like I was back in kindergarten, and I'd just fallen over. I stayed silent.

"Now it won't be for very long, but there will be a car coming to take you to a place to help you. It's nothing but the best, and there will be lots of girls and boys around your age there too. Maybe you can make some new friends?" she continued.

I stared at her blankly, but my stomach dropped. They were sending me away. And I was going to be surrounded by strange people I didn't know. It felt like a nightmare, and I flashed my mother a panicked look. My hands began to shake, and my head felt light, so I grasped my trousers until I was white-knuckled and I mentally counted to fifty to calm myself down.

"Of course, you'll have three days to pack and say your farewells, and I'll sent a car to bring you to your temporary home. Is that alright, Miss Zamo...?"

"Mrs Zamolodchikova." My mother replied, smiling weakly. We always got asked about our surname, and I'd never met a person who could pronounce it right. That being said, nobody really remembered my name. I was the sickly, sad looking one at the back of everyone's class. "And yes, that's fine."

My breath hitched, and I felt betrayed. How did my own mother feel it was right to send me away? I knew how this shit goes, I'd seen it in movies. She was going to leave my there, and the doctors were only there for the salary, so they wouldn't help me get any better. I was utterly nervous and afraid. I had three days to run away, and become a fugitive. Or to convince my mother this wasn't good for me.

But three days was simply not enough time.