This is a spin-off of several works I have completed or are currently underway.
This series of short stories will follow a few of my characters through the rehabilitation process until they have their moment of clarity.
Some issues dealt with in thi...
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The fight to London had been a long one. My parents would fly nothing less than first-class, leaving the three of us in plush seats and silent tension.
That nine hour flight would go down in the history books as the most awkward Winston family time spent together.
The hotel situation hadn't been any better. With a reservation mix-up we'd been left with a two-bedroom suite, something my mother wasn't comfortable with.
She didn't want me sleeping alone apparently.
So we shared a bed, leaving my dad in the opposite room. And that in itself was an uncomfortable experience, as neither one of us spoke to one another.
And now we were seated inside of a large, brick building. It seemed to be some type of doctor's office, as we'd been led back to a room with an examination table.
But still none of us were speaking to one another, leaving me to assume what was happening.
That was, until my mother informed me of the long-term plan.
"You're leaving me here?" I stood with my mouth gaping at my mother, my mind swirling with this new information.
Drop Emily off at the clinic. Leave Emily in London for the next school year.
I suppose it made sense. Why else would we come all the way to London to speak with a doctor? But for some reason I had yet to register that this was actually happening.
That they were serious about this.
"You can't be serious."
My dad let out a long sigh. "I could count how many times you've used that exact phrase since this whole mess started."
"It doesn't really matter. It's not like you listen to anything I have to say in the first place."
His eyes widened, but before he could say anything my mom cut in.
"We did our research, honey," she said, laying a hand on my shoulder.
Her hand flinched back, but she cleared her throat and rested it again.
"Am I too vile to the touch now?"
She pressed her lips together. "I wasn't expecting to feel the bone, Emily."
I immediately ripped away from her grip. "Then don't touch me."
"This is the best facility that money can buy," dad said. "And trust me when I say that it doesn't come cheap."
My mom cleared her throat, trying to discreetly shake her head. "Price doesn't matter, Emily. We only want what's best for you."
"What's best for me is to go home," I said. "You can't really just leave me here."
Alone. In a foreign country.
"It's not forever."
Dad shrugged. "Well it will be if you don't get your act together."
