Isobel Hermann

Chapter 4

Once the evening had fallen upon us, Dad still hadn't come to pick me up and as the hospital was extremely busy Dr Halstead discharged me but insured I stayed in the doctors' lounge, where they could keep an eye on me but still use my bed for far better purposes. Someone who deserved the bed could use it. Since I had finished all my homework, I wandered over to the bookshelf and picked a thick medical textbook off the shelf to read at one of the conveniently  placed tables in the room. It was quite heavy reading but nothing beyond me except some of the descriptions and diagrams were probably less than age appropriate.

"Hey Isobel, what're you reading?" Dr Halstead asked as he popped in to check I was okay, a waste of time in my opinion. I only seemed to inconvenience the doctors here.

I held up the book so he could see the title. He winced upon seeing it and sat down opposite me, "I'm not entirely sure you should be reading that... it's not very child appropriate."

He didn't make any attempt to prevent me from reading it so I turned the page to continue. It was actually far more interesting than I thought it would be, maybe I should consider a career in medicine. Lost in thought as I was, I didn't notice Dr Halstead's attempts to engage me in conversation until he reached across to clap in front of my face, causing me to flinch. "Maybe you are concussed. Has that headache cleared up yet?"

I nodded weakly but he frowned. "I doubt that. Follow the pen." He waved his pen light around for a while and I followed it the best that I could. "You seem to have a pretty minor concussion so I'll keep you around here for a bit longer and be around every hour until your parents pick you up. In the meantime, put the book away and try to sleep."

I couldn't believe it. I really was wasting the doctors' time by being there. If only I hadn't fought back, everything would be better for everyone. Dad wouldn't be angry with me or worried, the doctors could spend time with patients who actually deserved their care and everyone would be better off. Everyone would be better off if I wasn't there.  

Eventually, at midnight, Dad dropped by to take me home. Apparently the fire they had been called to had taken a while to contain and he was only just able to get me but luckily no one was hurt. Once we arrived at the house — not home, never home — Dad instructed me to head up to bed quietly, without waking the siblings, so I walked up the stairs and curled up on my bed where I waited until his footsteps had died down along the hallway and finally allowed myself to cry out the frustrations of the day.

The next morning, I was awoken bright and early at 5.30 by Cindy, who instructed me to make breakfast for the family. It wasn't unexpected but I had hoped for a few more hours to sleep especially since making breakfast for the family is no easy feat for everyone had their own preferences and could never seem to chose one thing to eat. I had to make hand-squeezed orange juice for Annabelle and Kenny as well as fruit muffins for Luke and a full English breakfast for Lee-Henry. At least the others are easier things like toast or cereal that would take far less time to sort out or, in Dad's case, prepared their own food.

Again, I spent the day cleaning and doing every single chore Dad and Cindy could think of (this time without using any of the polish that I seem to be allergic to), which was not actually all that different to a normal day when Dad was at the firehouse except possibly more relaxing as I didn't have Cindy battering on my mental weaknesses or any of my siblings to tolerate trying to beat me up. It was still almost a relief when Dad sent me back to bed shortly after lunch due to a prolonged coughing fit that almost caused him to call Brett to give me the once-over even though I was absolutely fine! 

The rest was good though and removed all traces of  tiredness from me which left me a tiny bit happier and gave me a chance to cut while everyone was away from me. Where they were safe. I tend to retreat into myself a bit when I am surrounded by people for fear that I will lash out and hurt them. Again. Like I hurt myself.