Pretending (bxb)

chapter 4

I'm not sure how long it's been since my social worker left, but the sun is starting to set so I'm guessing it's been quite some time.

My doctor has come and gone a few times, and one of the nurses dropped off some food, but other than that no one's been in the room since Mrs. Lamprey left. I've been so nervous about what's to come that I can't even think about eating, so I pushed it aside and went back to spacing out.

That's probably not a great idea because I can't even remember the last time I ate a real meal other than the crappy school lunches, but it's whatever, really.

After another little while I realized that staring at the wall in disbelief was terribly boring, and I realized I needed to do something to get her off my mind. Looking at the chair to my left I saw the pair of clothes I was wearing from last night, except they seemed clean. Hm, I guess they washed them for me. Better to change into clothes now, then have some grown ass creepy doctor claim he needs to help me put on my clothes or something.

So, I carefully and slowly move myself into a sitting position on the side of the bed and raise myself up. I stumble for a moment, before catching my balance. I see black dots for a minute, but then they clear and I'm left feeling pretty much fine other than a raging head ache. Taking a deep breathe, I walk over to the chair and grab my clothes to head towards the bathroom.

Before I can make it there, life has other plans when the door slams open and my social workers kind laugh is cut off by an alarming gasp.

"Quinn! What are you doing up on your own!?" She says in a panicking voice and runs towards me, grabbing onto my arm in case I fall.

"Let go, lady. I'm fine," I tell her but she's already turning us around and leading me back to the bed. Honestly my head hurts too much to fight her so I just let her sit me back down. Maybe that wasn't so much of a good idea. Whoops.

"What were you thinking, dear? you could of hurt yourself, the doctors haven't given you your pain meds yet today-" Blah blah blah, I shut her out and instead turn to the door, wondering who Mrs. Lamprey was talking to before she started her rant.

A tall thin woman stood by the door, she had black curly hair thrown in a tight formal bun and piercing blue eyes that started right at me. She was wearing a a dark blue sweater and a pencil skirt, and in her hands she carried an expensive looking black purse, and a black winter jacket folded over her arms. For a minute I couldn't even recognize her. She's changed so much from the unhappy and tired woman that I always remembered her as. Instead of the poor looking junkie she used to be when she was married to my equally as junkie looking father, Jannette Hale, or I guess whatever last name she goes by now, looked, well how do I say this, so well put off.

Looking at her aging face, I realized just how nervous she looked. The way she looked at me told me just how much she didn't want to be here, with me, in this situation. Judging by the way she was still standing by the doorway, it looked like she would bolt at any given moment.

To be honest, I half expected her to.

I've been thinking of this moment of so long. Thinking about what I would say to her when I finally saw her again. Tell her how angry I was with her, how much she hurt me, how much I needed her when I was younger. Tell her all the things she missed while she was gone, and guilt her by bringing up dad. But sitting here now, in this too bright hospital room, while my social worker goes silent and Janette who is not even 6 feet away from me takes in her oldest born child who she hasn't acknowledged for 10 whole fucking years, my mind suddenly goes fully and entirely blank. I've been waiting years for this moment and I can't say a single goddamn thing.

And suddenly I can't breathe.

It's like all the air has been sucked out of this room, except staring at Mrs. Lamprey she seems to be breathing just fine. And it's suddenly too hot and this stupid fucking hospital gown is beginning to get too itchy, and just being in here is too much. I want to scream, fuck I want to get up and run away, run away from all of my problems and never think of them ever again.

But nothing ever works like that. I never seem to get anything I want in this shitty world.

"inn- Quinn! Hey look at me, okay look at me."

I snap back into reality and quickly look into the eyes of my seemingly worried social worker. She has her hands firmly gripping my shoulders, grounding me back into the current moment.

I curse myself for slipping like that, especially in front of her. I can't show her just how much she affects me. Hell, I can't show her any of my weaknesses, or she could use them against me like all the other parental figures have done in my life.

So I shield my face into my perfected apathetic no-emotions mask and and bore my eyes into Mrs. Lamprey. She looks shocked at my sudden change of emotions, but let's go of me anyways and turns back to look at Janette, who's still standing at the door, still staring at me.

"Why don't you come in, dear. We need to have a talk," Lamprey says, which seems to get my mother out of her little haze. She finally breaks out of her "staring contest" with me and takes a deep breathe, before stepping into the room.

"Let's get started, shall we?" Janette says, slipping on a mask of her own.

I guess that's something we have in common, then.