Mystical Child ⭐ | COMPLETE

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t h r e e

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My brother woke me early this morning.

"Rogue! Momma is leaving to the doctor now! We gotta go!" He ran back down the stairs, fast quick thumps. I sat up. "Oh, ok," I called after him. I quickly got up, at the same time wondering when he had gotten up, and I

put on some blue jean shorts that were raggedy and had a few small holes on the legs and a white tank top. It had two red hearts in the center with the word love written in blue across them. They were thick straps that went across my shoulders to the tops of my arms. I grabbed my black old tennis shoes and my little purple knapsack, the pull strap kind; then I darted for the door, almost tripping on a piece of board sticking up. I was always clumsy when I was in a rush. I was also bad about forgetting things. I dashed through the long hallway to the front door, also almost tripping down the stairs. That's where momma and Ron were.

"Get into the car please," I opened the front door and followed Ron down the porch stairs out to the little silver Buick sitting on the dirt pathway of our driveway lit up by a single streetlight. It was chilly, dark and damp. What did I expect from an early November morning? The porch creaked with every step and again I almost tripped on the rocks and gravel next to the porch steps. I had my red hair up in a ponytail; the two longest strands of my bangs ran down the sides of my face, the rest covered my eyes and forehead. I opened the door and Ron jumped on in and I followed. I checked what I had in my knapsack and was glad with what I saw. Momma then opened the driver's door and was in. The car cranked up and died a few times, but finally started. I was a little worried with what was about to happen.

The waiting room was crowded and smelt like something awful. The walls were an off white. There were kids and parents everywhere, in seats and all over the floor. As I looked around, I saw a little girl sitting on her daddy's lap. It reminded me when I would sit in my daddy's lap back at home. I loved sitting in his lap. He used to tickle me till I snorted and then laugh at me. I smiled when he made her laugh. She didn't look scared to be here. I opened my knapsack and found my portrait I had of my daddy and me. Momma had taken this portrait when daddy just had made me snort and was laughing. I had my hands over my mouth and was looking at the camera smiling as big as ever. I laughed a little from the memory.

"Is that dad?" Ron was looking at it as well. I handed it to him. "Yep, that's daddy when he tickled me. It made me so happy. Every time I snorted I was even happier,"

Ron looked and looked at the portrait, like he was studying how daddy looked. Then he finally looked up at me. I was looking back over at the girl with her daddy though. They looked so happy. It made me smile just seeing it.

"Who are you looking at?" He was handing the portrait back to me. "Oh, nothing. Just that little girl in her dad's lap over there," I took the portrait and looked at it again. "That girl's lucky to have a daddy like that," Before I realized it, a teardrop landed on daddy's shirt. I was crying a little again. Ron had went and gotten me a tissue from a box on a table in there. I wiped my eye with it. Ron noticed another portrait that was sticking out of my knapsack. He pulled it out and looked at it. He studied it for a moment.

"Who's this?" he showed it to me. I smiled when I saw which one he had found. "Oh, that's the very first portrait of you when you were learning to talk and walk." I giggled, remembering he had tripped over a crayon prior to this portrait. Who trips over those? Ron was looking at it again. "And you kept it? Daddy's not in it,"