more action than anything else in this chapter, but if you don't read this you might be confused for the rest of the story
"It's fine, I'm fine," Harmony insisted, protesting even as she and her mother entered the waiting room of the ER, waving to her dad, who left to park the car. "You're taking this to the extreme," she whined. She was so embarrassed. She hadn't wanted her faux-stomach ache taken out of proportion like this. Why couldn't she have just pretended to eat lunch and thrown it away or something? Why did she have to let everyone know how little she was eating?
"If it's nothing big, then they'll just send you home," Harmony's mother replied.
"But it's really not necessary," Harmony complained. "Please. Let's just go home. I'll eat whatever you want me to eat for dinner today. I promise."
"We're already here, just let them take a look and see what's going on," Ms. Wilfeld said sternly. Harmony grumbled, but followed her mother to the reception anyways, letting herself space out to think about calories and excuses. Finally, finally, her mother was done talking and her dad was done parking, and they were led into a room by a nurse.
The room was your classic hospital room. There was a hospital bed, a few chairs, a rolling stool, and a big machine in the corner that probably did things harmony couldn't even imagine. The nurse motioned for Harmony to take a seat on the bed, which she did, and her parents sat on the chairs beside it.
Soon enough, the blood pressure monitor cuff came out, and of course, they started taking Harmony's blood pressure, heart rate, and before she knew it, they were asking millions of questions while sticking stickers to Harmony's chest and connecting her to the big machine in the corner.
"How much has she eaten today?"
"Has it been going on for a long while?"
"What medications is she taking?"
"Has she mentioned anything to you about body image?"
"Does she ever throw up her food?"
"Alright, I'd like to talk to Harmony alone now."
Harmony turned to look at the doctor as her parents filed out of the room, leaving her alone with the doctor, a beeping heart rate monitor, and a stack of thin hospital blankets that were barely keeping her bony self warm.
"So is there anything you want to tell me now that your parents are gone?" the doctor asked immediately.
"Uh, no." Harmony wasn't used to talking to people without her parents' supervision. Was she supposed to be honest? But it would get back to her parents either way, right? Yes, lies were the best option, Harmony decided. Which is why, when the doctor asked whether Harmony had ever had any suicidal thoughts or intentions, Harmony replied with a confident no.
After a long interrogation, Harmony's parents were let back in, along with nurses, needles, and heat packs. Soon enough, the nurses were poking Harmony's arm like it was a pincushion. First just a single, relatively painless poke in the elbow crook. But then another poke on the hand, and another on the other elbow. Geez, these were trained nurses. How did they struggle so much with getting blood out of an arm?
And to make things worse, just when the nurses were done poking her with needles and putting stickers on her, she was presented with a cup of apple juice for her blood sugar being too low,
YOU ARE READING
Vanishing Act
Teen Fiction*cover under construction* Meet Harmony Wilfeld. Harmony was not a people person. She didn't like people, people didn't like her. It was all okay. So she began to vanish.
