Pluviophile

3 | Not again / Ember P.O.V

'Ember!'
I internally cringe, knowing full-well that whenever my dad called out I had to face the family. And that wouldn't be so bad, if they didn't make it hell. My little brothers would twitter and question my life, while my mum would shoot me covert, disappointed glances. She hadn't liked me dropping out of uni.

The thing is, I didn't drop out of uni. I took a year's break, because my anxiety was causing me so much stress I couldn't focus. I tried to make it through by just not going and getting Louise, the closest person I had to a friend, to just send me the notes and homework. But that didn't work out so well. Louise wanted to help me, but got annoyed at my inability to come to class, so she told me as much. Some friend.

To my mum, taking a break is basically the same thing as quitting. My dad wanted me to be happy, but he also wanted me to finish my degree in marine biology. Maybe that's why he understood that a year's break would help. Either way, my dad was fine with it.

'Ah, Ember,' my dad says as I stumbled into the kitchen. 'Glad that the sun can finally see your face.' I look at him, unsure if he's joking or not. The boys, aged 5 and 8, watch me make my way to the fridge and take out the bottle of orange juice, before resuming their argument over the toy truck.

Just as I go to take a sip of orange juice, my mum walks into the kitchen, her no-nonsense clothes in stark contrast to my cat pj's. She kisses each of the boys on their heads, and nods at me.

'Morning, Ember,' she says, her voice carefully measured. 'Good to see you up.' And with that short greeting, she directs her attention to my dad. 'I'll see you at the clinic? There's a couple of new patients that have been admitted.' My dad nods, understanding. Both my parents work in a mental health-specialised hospital, otherwise known as the clinic. Of course, Ash wasn't admitted there. That would make my life too easy, wouldn't it?

'You should get out today.' I knew that my mum would bring her attention back to me. 'Now that you don't have uni to go to.' And there it is, the way she always manages to bring uni into everything. It's an amazing skill she possesses, along with making me feel like crap and turning nothing in the fridge into dinner.

'Ok,' I sigh. My dad glances at me, seeming to understand the thousand unspoken words behind it. He knew my mum could be pushy.

'Come on boys, let's go.' I watch as my mum leaves the room, my brothers in tow. She'll drop them off at school on the way to work. I look at my dad, worry lines etched into his face.

'Ember, sit down.' I perch on a kitchen stool, while my dad remains seated at the table. 'Are you ok? You seem more down than usual.'

I give my standard answer. 'I'm coping.'

'Are you sure? You haven't left your room for two days except to eat and go to the toilet.'

'Yeah, well, Mum's kinda been on me about the whole uni thing.'

He sighs. 'I'll talk to her. She just wants you to finish, and not quit like Brandon.' Brandon was my older brother, who dropped out of his course in journalism. 'But you have to try, Ember. Maybe beating the anxiety is harder, but take your meds, and don't let depression run your life.' My depression meant that everything was hard. It was like the world had been tainted. And when I did want to do something, chances are my anxiety would rear its head. It's a cruel, cruel world.

'I'll go to the park today.'

'Good girl. I believe in you, sweetie. Oh, and Ember?'

'Hmm?'

'A letter came for you.'

And with that, I took the letter, gave a wan smile and slunk back to my room.