One Troubled Story

01 | Stairs

"Aira get up!" My dad yelled at me through my door.

It is currently Saturday morning, and while I would much rather be asleep right now— I have to go to work with dad.

"Yes, I'm coming!" I yawned letting my dad know I was coming. Having a quick shower before getting dressed in black track pants and a black hoodie with my Air Jordan 1's. I walked out of my room and into the kitchen, there sat my dad eating his breakfast. His honey blonde hair identical to mine wet from a shower, as his blue eyes are zeroed in on his phone.

"Hey dad!" I said grabbing my muesli, before sitting down next to him at the kitchen counter.

"Good morning." He replied back, kissing my cheek. "I'm going to go finish getting ready. Be ready in 20." He continued before going back to his room.

Finishing my muesli, I washed the bowl and put it away. Walking back into my room to grab my phone and books, I put them all into my army green messenger bag before making my bed and leaving. "I'm ready!" I called out to my dad letting him know that I'm ready.

"Ok let's go." He announced walking towards the front door of our apartment. After he locked the door he turned to me and said, "Remember how I said that I'd booked in an appointment for you with Henry? Well that's gonna be today."

Honestly I had been hoping that he would have forgotten about that. Not that I don't like the doctors, it's just every time that I go into a doctors room or office, or just anywhere that involves doctors, I get this funny unsettling feeling wash over me. I think it started after my mum died.

"Ok." I mumbled back loud enough so my dad could just hear.

As we went down the elevator to the car park my dad looked at me wearily before saying, "Hey, are you ok?"

"Yes I'm fine." I sighed, even though on the inside I so wanted to tell my dad everything I was feeling. From the sadness that comes with thinking about mum to the annoyance about having to have this appointment that makes me just wanna run away and get high.

"Are you though? 'Cause if this appointment upsets you this much then we can postpone it to another day." My dad added in a calm soothing voice.

"No it's fine, we can do it today." I blurted hoping it didn't sound to forced.

𝐎 𝐍 𝐄   𝐓 𝐑 𝐎 𝐔 𝐁 𝐋 𝐄 𝐃   𝐒 𝐓 𝐎 𝐑 𝐘

When we got to the hospital my dad let me go hang in his office until my appointment, which isn't for another two hours. After reading my book for about an hour I decided that I would go for a walk.

Knowing that my dad would absolutely lose it if I went outside I just would go for a walk around the hospital. I always found it fascinating how inside a hospital there are two different sides. One side is like the crazy side, doctors and nurses racing around trying to save people's lives or people screaming and getting angry for their loved ones to be saved. And the other side is calm, where people are either happy that their family will make it or that people are excepting that their loved ones are now in a better place.

Well, at least that's what my dad says.

My hatred towards hospitals started when my mum died. You see, my mum was one of the most caring people you could ever meet. She cared too easily and would help whenever she could, but that all stopped because of cancer. Cancer is a fucked up thing, and it always kills off the best of us...

My mum died of leukaemia when I was 11. She died within a year of us knowing, she didn't want treatment 'cause she said it wouldn't help— as it was stage 4. My dad was devastated, he developed depression after she died and wasn't able to take proper care of me anymore, so I went and lived with Uncle Reese and Henry for the 6 months it took my dad to get better.