I waited for hours on end, or at least it seemed like it. Watching the second hand slowly makes its way around the clock didn't help. The white washed floors smelled of bleach and there was click of heels every so often from impatient and fast moving doctors. Across from me was a small wooden table with magazines of all sorts that rested next to a notepad and a fancy pen. I grab the pen and start to make scribbles as I wait for the time to pass. I hear a tapping sound and realize it's my foot nervously beating against the wood chair. The ticking of the clock grew louder and I began to get more impatient with time. After awhile my mind drifted to the consistent beeping from two doors down and I wondered what time sensitive matter it was signaling. Just then the door next to me opened.
"Julie Gardner" the doctor called, signaling me to trudge my way nervously into the room of yellow painted walls and pictures of flowers hung everywhere. Doctor Shelly smelled of flowers as well but the kind you would find at funeral homes.
"Time for your check up" she says, though I think, "time to see if there is anything wrong with me". You see I tend to over-think and over-worry but sometimes I'm right and I'm not crazy , like my brother calls me. She checks everything and today it turns out there was nothing wrong. But my chest hurt yesterday and I had some leg pain a week ago. She must have missed something.
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The Life of Julie Gardner
किशोर उपन्यासJulie Gardner is trying to figure out life just like the rest of us with depression and anxiety holding her down.
