The Art of Drowning

Chapter Three

Song for this chapter - I Knew You Were Trouble by Taylor Swift

Taking the elevator up to the tenth floor of the hospital was almost always the most awkward part of coming to my appointments. Obviously, the car rides there and back were already painful enough, however in the elevator, the trip is so short it leaves barely any time to really think of any meaningful thing to say. I've learned to keep my mouth shut in the elevator because usually all that I seem to come up with is either an ill-conceived plan of escape, or a poorly timed joke that apparently only I seem to find funny, (these were usually morbid and almost always resulted in a terrifying glare from mum).

Thankfully, it was much less awkward of a trip this time as we also had Karen and dad with us. No words were shared between the four of us (as usual), only this time I wasn't the only person who had to endure it.

Of course, I maintained my usual routine of pressing the button to actually call the elevator to us about one hundred times. I think each time I do this my mother gets more and more annoyed, so naturally I take pleasure in doing more and more and presses. My father, having only been to a couple of my checkups however, found it only mildly irritating.

Once we had actually reached the tenth floor of this all too familiar building, Karen and I wandered over to find a seat in the waiting area, while my mum and dad went over to the rounded, front desk in the centre of the room, to collect the necessary forms and to sign me in.

Even though it was a hospital, it was surprisingly boring. It was only the doctor's offices and so the actual patients didn't spend much time here, but I thought they might've at least painted the walls a nice colour or something, if not only for the visitors and kids coming for checkups. The walls were grey, the floor was grey, the chairs were grey. Even the lights, while bright and somewhat blinding, were somehow grey. All of this of course was magnified by the rain, which was now falling in bucketloads and drilling mercilessly into the windows. In fact, the only colour in the entire room was provided by a sad little toy box in the corner, where a boy who I would guess to be around seven years old was driving a toy firetruck up the walls. He was screaming rather loudly; something about 'saving the civilians', but for once I didn't mind the noise. In fact it was kind of comforting knowing that he certainly didn't seem too afraid of the outcome of his appointment.

My mother on the other hand, was eyeing him up from the receptionists desk, no doubt hatching a plan to complain about the sounds to his parents.

I wonder if I was like that as a kid. I highly doubt it; I wouldn't have lasted more than two minutes in my house if I was unruly to any extent. Sure, I could run my mouth if I wanted to but most of the time the consequences of doing so weren't worth it. Karen probably would have had a better chance than me of getting away with it, although probably still unlikely.

Mum and dad started to make their way over to me and Karen, but not before my mum crossed the aisle to the boy's parents. They shared a quick nod which was followed shortly by the boy's mum whispering something to him in a hushed voice. I couldn't hear what she said exactly from where I was sat, but she obviously told him to be quiet, as the noise emanating from the colourful corner of the room stopped almost immediately.

My mum sat down with a smug smile on her face and a, "Thank God, that's stopped". I scoffed and sunk lower into my stiff, grey chair, which thankfully my mother didn't seem to take much notice of; she was scrolling through travel pictures on Instagram. Occasionally she looked up to point out a particularly pretty beach, or a unique-looking cliffside to Karen. It was no secret that my mum had wanted to go on holiday for some time, but she told me to my face that the reason she couldn't go was that I might ruin it for her by making it all about me and my 'inability to eat'. Shocked as I was, it wasn't anything too out of character for her.