A Life Is Anything That Dies When You Stamp On It; This Is My Life

Part 2 - No one i

"Mummy?" Della piped up.
"Yes?" Came the carefully controlled answer.
"Nothing!" Rachaelle's daughter giggled. Rachaelle herself contained her mild irritation and smiled like it was the funniest thing she had ever heard, trying to hide her nerves from the unsuspecting Della.
"Della?" Rachaelle chimed.
"Yes?...." Della replied suspiciously.
"Nothing!" Rachaelle laughed. However funny Rachaelle had found it, Della was obviously not amused. Her skipping turned to stomping, her smile to scowl. Rachaelle was puzzled. What had she done wrong?
Seeing as they had arrived at the doctor's office, she cleared her throat and knocked. It opened to a smiling man with slicked-back hair and a too-small white coat. His round glasses reflected the overhead lights.
"Come in, Ms. Inglewood! So nice to see you!" Dr Sampson chattered, even though he had never met Rachaelle.
The doctor ushered them into his office, gesturing towards the starchy bed and a red plastic chair.

"Now then, Della. If I ask you some questions, will you answer honestly?"
"Maybe. Tell me why first. Then I'll consider it." Regardless, the doctor carried on, scribbling something down on his clipboard.
"Okay, Question One: when was the first time you got really angry at someone?" Della tilted her head back, closed her eyes and muttered, "Yesterday. At mummy."
"Next one: are you good at sleepjng?"
"No. I can never sleep. Look," she pointed at the purple bags underneath her eyes, "I'm telling the truth. And you still haven't told me why you're asking me about all this."
"I'll tell you when we're finished," Dr Sampson replied, clearly irritated," Question Three: How long can you concentrate for? One hour, three-quarters of an hour, half an hour, ten minutes, or five minutes?"
Della frowned then said, "About ten minutes. Maximum."
Rachaelle had been ignoring the tentative interaction between her daughter and the doctor. She was fiddling with her phone, and gasped when she read the message. Dr Sampson took this as the perfect way to pose his next question. He stood up, and gave a meaningful glance to Rachaelle. Strolling over, he picked up the phone and faked surprise.
"Oh My Goodness! Della, Ms. Inglewood! I am so sorry for you..." He turned to Della and said, "Your grandmother has had a car accident. And," He continued, voice convincingly cracked and eyes full of tears, "She did not survive. Please bow your heads in respect!"
When they brought their heads back up, Rachaelle was shocked to see that Della was swinging her legs, a blank expression on her face. Her eyes were out of focus and seemed totally unconcerned. The doctor shook his head at this, returning to his seat. Rachaelle however, was not as accepting, and exclaimed, "Della! How could you be so cruel?"
What Della said next took her mother completely aback, "Well, I don't know how to cry, do I?! And how could you be so mean to me?" Her eyes filled with angry tears, so she turned away from her mother and the doctor. Rachaelle was gobsmacked. Not know how to cry?! No, that wasn't right, surely? Besides, she hadn't been that mean, had she?
Okay, Della, that was my last question." Della breathed out heavily and smiled, "Can we go then?"
"Actually, I just want to give you a sticker for being such a good girl. Come here and you can choose!" Doctor Sampson replied.

No one but the nurses waiting in the shadows saw the needle he was grasping, poised and ready...

                                                                                     *************
The doctor lunged towards me, a needle in his outstretched hand.
I screamed, and the last thing I saw was my mother's horrified face. And two nurses appearing out of the shadows. They'd been waiting for this moment. Two pairs of hands grabbed me as the needle pierced my skin.
The last thing I saw was a black door with the label 'Scan Room 3' outlined in white as strong hands restrained me.