Contrivance

Chapter 4 - My parents are overbearing

I've been sitting in the clinic bedroom for... uh... wait.

I check my watch, and it says 1:30 Post Meridiem, so I've been here in these walls of stale and fresh medical supplies for about an hour and 15 minutes.

I look around the room in front of me and all I see are people confined to beds. Some too sick to even continue the school day - hugging their complimentary stuffed teddy bears nearly to the point of popping, signifying so severe a case of mild sickness - that the clinicians will prod them to contact their parents and other Guardians to send them home.

Others have the case of either warm heads; stomach bugs - causing them to puke buckets of their lunches, and other snacks - or other gastrointestinal issues; the common cold; sneeze bouts; asthma episodes. Some are probably faking their illnesses in order to escape the scholastic life for one day.

I have no choice but to stare at these people and think-

"This room is sad and desperate..." I think to myself. "The smell of Vicks Vaporub, mild sickness, the occasional blood, it feels... cold. And gloomy. And despondent.

Melancholy all over this nice clinic. Melancholy, melancholy all over.

Albert... You gotta hand it to a guy who's willing to wait for an hour just for their friend to get well and better. He's a true believer in the word "friend".

My mother and father. What will they think of me after this? I mean, I just got here, and my first act against a bully was to bully her back to the point where she cried no longer furtive tears, but public ones, and continue to verbally bully, and bully, and taunt her for her own attitudes until she was spirited to attack me back, physically.

I got the tyrant to be quiet, and behave herself.

I have exposed her outrageous personality and antics, her horns of tyranny have been shortened by my words, my file of freedom; I have ruined her social life, her corruption amplified by her socialite connections have been disbanded - but grounded?

Not to mention she beat the crap out of me. My arm feels bruised. My eye hurts to blink it, even once. My ribs feel cracked. My legs... oh wait. I have none of those.

One of the clinicians in charge with my recuperation stated that I might have to pack up and go home for a few days.

Clyde... I gave my mother and father's personal cell numbers, and prompted me to call them myself.

I did, and I told them exactly what happened. My father could not believe it, but related to me that a similar accident happened back in 2011, when he was a student, with another student who happens to be a current Senator. But my mother... oh, God.

When I told her after dad, she couldn't help but scream out of discernible dismay and worry. I'm fairly persuaded that it cracked, even broke, some poor soul's windows. She reassured me that she and dad, alongside Trevis - the middle child and my brother - were coming to see if I'm ok, and have strong words to the President.

I tried to talk her out of it, but said that I "wasn't acting myself... must be from the trauma" and hung up.

I can only pray for the best and prepare for the worst. Assuming that, truly, Trevis and dad and mom are going to arrive, and not burst through the do-"

*burst*

I hear a loud burst coming from the door entrance, and of course, who comes through that curtain entryway other than Elisande Diligence.

"Danny?!" Mom screams. "Danny!!!"

"Mom, can you please not freak out?" Trevor says as he walks through the curtain entryway.