I'm sitting outside in the waiting room with my mom waiting for the results. This makes me very worried. The pink screaming walls don't help me that much. They make me nauseous and dizzy. I try to focus on something else while mom just seems completely calm. How can she be calm now? Or did she just pretend? Maybe she does. I look around the room a fourth time. Nothing has changed except that an older crumpled old man has sat on the chair opposite me. He sits on a similar wooden chair in brown lacquer and white seat cushion. He scratches his thighs a bit and he looks really nervous. I look at something else. A small aquarium with a few small shimmering fish. Everything from pink glittering fish to blue matte fish. But it is something that does not match one of the fishermen. It doesn't belong there either - I just can't figure out what's wrong with it. The fish is both orange but at the same time green. It changes hue depending on where it is. I poke my mom gently and she immediately loses focus on her black gelatin nails.
-Yes honey? she says, raising her eyes to me. Her eyes are red and swollen. I point to the orange-green fish.
-What is it for fish and why does it change color? I ask, turning my eyes first to Mom and then to the fish. The aquarium is about two, three meters away from me and my mom. It stands on a white chest of drawers in a fine pattern. Not a checkered pattern that many agencies have, but more that one box has four drawers in it, while an equally large box has only two.
- Hmm, I don't know. But it is very beautiful I must say, replies mom. She sounds uncertain, but it doesn't matter. I think mom is nervous about how it will be with dad. I'm trying to figure out what can happen to Dad and am worried. I love him, but I don't like what he does to me. I sit and munch on the big bruise that sits around my wrist. It doesn't hurt so much, but I can feel a small beam of pain. The reason why I, and mom are waiting for dad's results is because of this bruise. That's when it crossed the border. Mom understood why I cried every night. At first she thought it was just fatigue but now she knows what it really was. So we asked the hospital to pick up Dad to see if Dad should stay at our house, or go to a psychological instruction. I want him to get help, but I still don't want to leave him. It feels wrong. Everyone deserves a second chance. However, dad has got so many chances that it should be enough. But surely parents can't run out of other chances? Or can they?
-Marie Frickerman and Adeline Frickerman? says a doctor asking.
-That's us, Mom replies and stands up while she looks at me.
-Please come to room 485, the doctor continues. I look at the doctor's nameplate. Richard Williams.
-Absolutely, I say, walking toward the elevator. Room 485 is on the fourth floor and is door 85. I have learned that after all the times I have been in hospitals. It is common for me to get a valid absence from school. Since I do not participate in the lessons so often, this has impaired my grade. I've had to ask my mom to pick up school books from school and have them at the hospital to keep me at an E at its best. But now, if Dad is sent in for psychological instruction, this will change. My grades will be raised and I will participate in the lessons more often. When I arrive at the elevator it is already there. I step in and wait for Mom. She comes after me about ten seconds and I press the button with the number 4 marked on. The doors close automatically and we go up four floors. When we come up we hear a small pling and the doors open. We look at every door we pass. Mom on the right and me on the left. After all, we have room 85 so it should be on the right. Finally we find it. We step in and I meet Dad asleep in a white, dull bed. He has lots of hoses in both arms and he is strapped around his waist, ankles and wrists. It feels nice in some way. Now he can't hurt me no matter how much he tries. It's white leather straps. Such are really strong. Almost as if a piece of concrete was sitting around one. Or metal. He seems to be sleeping though I hear on the breath that he's pretending. When we sit on the chairs in front of the bed he "wakes up".
-Oh, hey, you're here ...! he says with an amused surprised voice. He looks at me, but there is something about his look. He looks remorseful. But I wont fall for it. After all the times he hurt me, I wont fall for it. I want to go ahead and beat him. Give back for all times. But I keep the feeling inside me.
-Yes, we are, says Mom. She looks madly at Dad, but I understand why. To harm his daughter in the way he does is not acceptable. Especially not several times.
-How will it be in the future? I ask. Because I really want to know if Dad will go into psychology or stay at home.
-I actually don't know, says dad. He doesn't look very particular about, so I really think he knows. - Dad, don't lie! I roll out of myself at the same time as I tie my fists together and get up quickly. The chair almost flies into the wall. I try to calm myself down so I sit down again. The fists are still tied and the nails are pointing towards the palm. My hands are starting to turn white so I release my hands. Both mom and dad look at me with inquiring eyes and I am ashamed. I probably wouldn't scream like that.
-Sorry, I wasn't supposed to scream, I say shyly. I sit down on the chair and take a thumbs up. There are about five, ten minutes of silence and everyone is trapped in their own little bubble. I think about how it will be without a father. And what the others are thinking, I don't know. At this very moment I wish I could read thoughts. I hear steps outside the door and how the door opens. It's Magnus Larsson again. He looks worriedly at Dad and then at me.
-Harald Frickerman, I'll take you to another room for another investigation. Okay? says Magnus. Dad doesn't boast. Not because he can but he doesn't say anything or anything. He just lies there as tight as he is. Richard goes to bed and rolls out dad. Mum and I stay on the chairs until both men are out of the room. Once they are out, I get up and mom the same. We go out to the car. I sit in my dad's seat in the front seat. I usually sit here. At least lately. Now that Dad is not allowed to leave the hospital in any way. Not a meter outside the door. We come home and mom goes straight into the kitchen to make lunch. I check my cellphone to see the clock. It's 11.34, we've been in the hospital for almost two hours. However, it felt like we were there for ten minutes. At the same time as if we were there for twenty years. Time is strange. Very strange.
-I'm going into my room, Mom! I tell my mom. She answers with a simple 'okay' and I close the door. I throw myself on the bed and go into the computer. I point the mouse at Google and open Youtube. Then look up some fun "try not to laugh challange". It is difficult. 'Injury is the best joy', as many say. It's a toddler sitting on a large toy car and riding around on it. After a while the car breaks down and the baby starts to cry. Poor thing. The next video is of a man rocking. He should make a volt from high altitude. It's not going well for him. He hits his head in the swing and brings his face straight down into the sand. I burst out laughing and laughing for probably ten minutes. Then mom is done with the food.
-I'm coming! I shout to my mom and run down to the kitchen. Put me in the "dad's" place next to my mom and chop the food into my mouth. As hungry as I am. Hot dogs and spaghetti may not be my favorite food but it is good. Would have preferred a burger from McDonalds or so. -What good it tastes, I tell my mom. Mom smiles in response. She is happy to have made food I like.
-Can I go out for a little while? I ask Mom.
- Sure you can! Have fun! replies mom. I go to my room again and get my phone. Tells Sophie that we will meet at the pocket. Sophie is my only friend. We have been friends since the age of four. Now we are 14, and hate school.
I arrive at the cafe five minutes before Sophie so I order a bun and put myself in "our" corner. When she arrives, she orders a cup of tea. Strawberry flavor as usual. Never that Sophie would take any other taste. It is not within her mind. We sit in the pocket for an hour and talk about almost everything.
-You know William? The weird guy. He asked me if I wanted to be with him ?! says Sophie. Almost always fun things happen to her. Considering I'm in the hospital almost once a week.
-What? Seriously? I grin at Sophie and laugh. Willem is a parallel-class guy who doesn't like many because of what he does. He chews on pens. He has F in almost all subjects. Teachers can be nice sometimes and give him E but it is rare.
-Yes! He just like "eh, you Soffe ..." yes, he told Soffe to me instead of Sophie ?! says Sophie. I giggle and laugh.
- Anyway, he then asks if I wanted to be his "sweetheart". And he said sweetheart with his mouth shut? I just laugh. Like what to do at such a time?
Sophie laughs. -Yes is not it? That's just weird. My mobile is ringing and it is an unknown number. Who could it be? I answer and turn on speakers that me and Sophie promised each other every time we hang up and someone calls. It is silent for a few seconds at first. As if the person was shut off. I say a pitiful "hello?". No answer. We wait a few more seconds before Sophie takes the phone away from me.
-We hang up now! she says and is about to hang up. Just then you hear a small click and then breath. Really heavy and deep breath. It sounds a bit like the person who called me just ran a marathon.
-Adeline, I'll be here soon, says the voice from the cellphone. Like the breath, the voice is very dark. Almost nasty. But the fact that I recognize the voice does not make me as scared. I can't figure out who, but I clearly recognize it.
-Who was it? Sophie asks when she's done.
-I don't know, I say, looking at her thoughtfully. It was a strange conversation. Sophie apologizes for having to go and trot home. I'm sitting on the little pocket trying to figure out who it might be. Finally, I figure out who it might be. A cold and angry shiver goes through my back up to my neck. Dad.
YOU ARE READING
Why him?
HorrorI see it in front of me. Dad standing behind me. Which raises the hand higher and higher. Then when he has reached a good point he throws his arm into a bow and pushes the knife deep into my neck. He will punch holes in the throat and the handle of...
