Broken Tides

Chapter Twelve

The alarm on my phone blared on time, as usual. It was muffled, having fallen under the bed, but loud enough to wake me up. I rolled over and glared at the phone, my phone's wallpaper bright and stigning my eyes.

I groaned, and picked the phone off the ground, knowing what this alarm was so early in the morning for; my monthly visit with mom. It was always the last day of every month. Always.

I had an outfit carefully picked out. Nothing blue, or green, or ocean realated. Bracelets to cover my anchor tattoo, and sleeves and shorts long enough to cover the others.

She usually didn't freak out over those but the nurses and doctors had asked me to incase she or another patient where upset by them. I had once considered getting colored contacts to change my eyecolor for visits but I changed my mind after realizing how similar me and my dad actually looked in the face.

I was told that physically however, my dad was more lanky than I was, and I physique-wise resembled my mom's father's when he was my age; not the tallest, and more or less averagely built. Thanks Pap, I guess.

Kat made breakfast, salmon on toast, with pan fried shrimp. And eggs. "Run out of overnight oats, or trying to use up the fish?" I glanced at her, picking at her shrimp. I knew she wasn't a huge fan of seafood so it was amusing to watch her try to find ways to eat all of the seafood she bought.

"Little bit of both, I guess." She folded her arms and sat back in her chair, a contemplating and concerned look on her face "You ready for today?"

"Nope." I said confidently, shoveling salmon, sans toast, into my mouth.

She chuckled "You know, you're gonna have to learn some better table manners before tonight, especially if you're taking Dee to the shack."

I laughed sarcastically, and made a show of my wolfing my food.

She broke contact, rolling her eyes and gathering her dishes. "You're disgusting."

"Yup." I handed her my plate, which she inspected.

"You didnt eat your eggs or the toast." She made a face at me, she had been making faces at me lately, looks of bewilderment and concern, combined with confusion and awe, but unless they seemed a little too extreme I had starting choosing to ignore them. I chose to ignore it this time.

"Didnt want it. Thanks anyways." I shrugged, rolling to the door, ready to go. I was the kind of person to take action when nervous. Not running or fighting, just moving on to the next thing. Like ripping a band-aid off, the sooner it's done the sooner you can move on.

That or I freeze up, not knowing what to do.

The drive to the facility felt abnormally long as always; our new handicap pass made it easier to find a parking spot, however. The nurses always, polietly feigning their happy smiles, and sympathy. I hated this place.

It felt so sterile and foreign, nothing seemed genuinly comforting. I knew the nurses pretended to be nice but their fake pretending made me feel anxious, and honestly angry. I didn't want to be angry at them but I was, and I didn't know why.

Mom had a room in a special wing, where she had a very fenced in balcony- looking more like a cell than a nice place to look out- with high brick walls on either side, and a large top to bottom wire fence and camera. Her room consisted of a standard issue in-patient bed, a dresser, desk and chair, a bookshelf, and a bathroom.