Dakota

Chapter 1: Missed Appointment

Chapter 1: Missed Appointment

I feel so bad for her. I wish I could take the pain and bullying away. Life has always been, and will continue to be, a daily struggle for my 13 year old daughter, Dakota. I have spent the last 45 minutes trying to plead with my daughter to come out of her room and get ready for physical therapy, which was supposed to start 10 minutes ago.

Usually, she is pretty easy to deal with, but when things go wrong, they really impact her. I set my 7 year old daughter, Logan, and 5 year old daughter, Hunter, up in the playroom so I can try and talk to Dakota. I approach her bedroom, and knock on the closed door.

    “Come in,” the voice from within says.

    I open the door, and find Dakota sprawled out sideways across her queen sized lime green comforter. She has one earbud in, and I can hear Sia’s Cheap Thrills blasting through. I sit on the dark green chair that was purchased just before my husband and I’s bitter divorce two years ago.

    “I think it’s time for a talk, Dakota,” I say, brushing my fingers over a picture of her and her sisters a few days after Hunter came home from the hospital.

    Dakota flips over on her bed, sending her fluffy pillow through the air.

    “What is there to talk about?” she asks, twisting her thin blonde hair into knots with her uncoordinated, stocky fingers.

    “We need to talk about your therapy sessions. I don’t know how long I can keep doing this. One of these days you’ll come to appreciate them, but you need to be committed to working hard. I know it’s frustrating that you need to put in a little more effort than other kids your age-”

    “My 5 year old sister can do things that I can’t even do! Do you have any idea how frustrating it is seeing her come home from school with homemade necklaces or paintings or stories about tying her shoes?” She explodes.

    “That’s what I am trying to explain, Dakota. You just need to keep working on it. I know that your fine motor skills aren't quite where they could be, but with some practice, I think we could make some  improvements. I am more than happy to help you with these things, but it can’t be a one-sided battle. I can’t help you if you don’t want to help yourself. I don’t know what more I can say. Like I said, you are going to realize that all of the things we’ve done over the years are for your benefit only. I just want the best for you, and it hurts me to see you struggling,” I explain.

    “I want to be better, I really do, but when the most basic task is such a struggle for me, I just get discouraged. And you don’t exactly have the time to be chauffeuring me around the city for different appointments. I would love to be able to help with Logan and Hunter, but my body is just too unforgiving. You can’t imagine how much I wish your life was easier. I know I can never replace what you and Dad once had, but in some ways, I hope I can keep you busy,” I explain. I glance at my watch, and realize we are now 45 minutes late for Dakota’s therapy session.

    “Well you’ve gotten away with not going to today’s session, but you can get your exercise in at the mall. Logan and Hunter need new shoes, and I think you could all do with some new clothes,” I explain.

    “But, Mum!” she exclaims. “You know how I feel about the mall!”

    “Dakota, you can’t just stay under a rock for the rest of your life. We are going to the mall and that is final. I want you to brush your hair and get your shoes on. I’ll help you with your laces,” I say.

    I walk out of her bedroom and down the hall to the playroom, where I find Hunter and Logan playing with their half naked Barbies.

    “Come on girls, we are going to the mall. You two need new shoes and all three of you need new clothes,” I say.