Undiagnosed

Chapter 1

"I'm sorry, Admiral Blair. Commander Kazansky is dead."

Commander Kazansky is dead.

Tears welled my eyes as I stood in the doorway, my father behind me. "What?" My dad stepped around me, pushing me back into the house. I walked into the living room, seeing my mother sitting in her chair, glasses on her nose and book in her hand. "Who in god's name is at our door at nine o'clock at night?" She asked, not looking at up. "A-an officer-" She huffed, slamming her book shut before she ripped her glasses off her face and looked at me. "Speak up. I can't hear you when you mumble and stutter." I nodded, taking a deep breath and trying again. "An officer is at the door. Admiral Kazansky is dead." I said as I rested my hand on the back of the couch. She stared at me for a moment before scoffing and putting her glasses back on. "Held on long enough, didn't he?" "Mother!" I scolded. She huffed, slamming her book on the side table, standing. "Hush!" I immediately went quiet as she approached me. "He has been sick for years now. Your father has been waiting in the wings for his moment! And this is his moment!" She yelled, pointing her finger in my face.

"And you will not ruin his image!" I nodded, not meeting her eyes as tears streaked my cheeks. "Admiral Kazansky passed in his sleep earlier." My father said as he walked into the living room. "And you're crying for him!" Mom said, smacking my arm, making me jump. "He was a good man, mama!" She rolled her eyes, going back to her chair. "A man you met only three times." I bit my lip, taking in a shaky breath. "I will be going up to my room." I said turning, only for my dad to stop me. "Dr. Nieman says you have an exam next week; I expect you to be studying." I nodded as he squeezed my shoulder. "Yes sir." I said before he let me go, walking past me and allowing me to go upstairs. Once in my room I shut the door, taking a deep breath before going over to my fish tank, pulling out some food to feed them. They rushed to the top as I dropped the food, making me giggle. "Greedy little guys, huh?" I asked, knowing they wouldn't reply. "Georgie!" I scolded the guppy who pushed Simon out of the way. "Oh my god, I'm scolding my fish." I sighed before sitting down at my desk, deciding I better crack open the law textbook before my father came in and yelled at me for not working hard enough.

A few days went by and finally it was the day of Iceman's funeral. I rode with my parents to the funeral, sitting in the backseat quietly as we rode from the funeral home to the gravesite. Once we pulled up and got out, I looked around at the sea of black dress uniforms, straightening out my own black dress as I stepped out of the truck. "Now," My mom said as she walked over. "Stand still and be quiet, I don't want to hear and squalling from you." I nodded as she took my dad's arm. "Yes ma'am." I fell in step behind them, walking slowly through the grass and between the graves before finally stopping. My parents would sit, while I stood behind them, my heels sinking into the soft ground. We watched as the casket was carried over, and the funeral started. I was fine until TAPS started; it always made me emotional at these things. But I stood there, stock still but I felt the tears coming, and with them, the fear of my mother.

I inhaled deeply and shakily, fighting off the tears when suddenly my mother reached back, pinching my thigh. I jerked, which made her snap around and glare at me. It wasn't until Captain Mitchell slammed his wings into the casket that the sobs started. I tried to hold back; my shoulders shook slightly as I held my breath. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, making me want to crawl out of my skin. Why are you crying? You're not family. You hardly knew the man. The voice resembling my own echoed throughout my head. I attempted to stop, but I couldn't. The voice was right though, I had no reason to be crying. Once it was done, my mother quickly stood, taking my arm and dragging me back towards the truck. "I told you to stay quiet." "I tried, momma. Really." "Well, you didn't try hard enough!" My back slammed into the truck, on the side facing away from people. "Your father has an image to keep. We can't have an uncontrollably emotional child messing that up." I nodded, knowing she was right. "Now, you are going to clean your face, because you have black streaks from your mascara, and then you will redo it on the way to the Kazansky's. Sarah is doing a celebration of life and we will be in attendance." She said as she shoved a makeup wipe at me. "Yes, ma'am." She huffed, straightening her dress. "Now get in the truck. You look like a train wreck, and we can't have anyone seeing you." I nodded, getting into the backseat as my mother went to join my dad as he spoke to some people.