Misconceptions - Calum Hood

Chapter One

The plane ride to Sydney was long and excruciating. I sat, squished between the window and my mother with my headphones blaring the entire time. Mum kept trying to make small talk but I just shook my head. She understood and left me alone the rest of the way.

 By the time we landed, the sky had gone dark. In Perth, it was still early in the day but Sydney was two hours ahead. My mother tapped her foot impatiently as we watched people shuffle off the plane, when she noticed me watching her she gave me a kind small before launching herself into the isle.

  My stomach rolled as we departed the airport and I knew another episode was soon to arrive. "Mum," I started, but my mother ignored me, trying to flag down a taxi.

  "Mum," I repeated.

  "Yes, darling?" She asked, not taking her eyes off the bright yellow cars ahead of us.

  "I think I might be sick."

 She turned, concern filling her face. She just stared at first, before putting a gentle hand on my shoulder and guiding me back to an empty washroom, lugging both our suitcases behind her.

 I ran into a stall, my mother on my tail. I knelt to the florr and shut my eyes, waiting for the acidic liquid to exit my mouth, my mother scrambled to pull my hair out of harms way.

 I gagged, and leant forward.

 Was this really happening?

 After minutes of vomiting my guts out, the episode had finally ended. I left the stall and bee-lined for the sink. 

  As I swished some fresh water in my mouth, I glared at myself in the mirror. All the colour had drained from my face, my eyes were slightly puffy and my hair was slightly ruffled. I was sick, and I finally looked the part. 

  I spit the water out and gladly took my mothers hand sanitizer out of her open hand, she rubbed my back as we exited the bathoom and back outside.

  "When we get to the house, I'll call for an appointment," my mother sad, as we squished into the cab.

  "Does that mean I miss school?" 

  She sighed, "I suppose it does."

  Inside, I was dancing, it was a full-on disco, while on the outside I felt drained. Both mentally and physically.

  As my mother told the driver our new address, I rested my forehead on the window. The cold glass felt nice and relaxing. Sydney wasn't that different from Perth, but there was obviously plenty more people roaming the streets.

  When I woke up the next morning, my mother had already left to search for job openings, specifically in her expertise of law. 

  The note on the kitchen countertop read that she called the hospital and my appointment was this afternoon. My doctor in Perth recommended an oncologist for my exact treatment needds, Dr. Nguyen.

  How exciting. (Note the sarcasm)

  As much as I wanted to get better the doctors already noted it wasn't possible. So why more doctors? Why more treatment? We all knew the outcome.