Thirty One Days

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The doctor spun around in his backless chair, a small smile on his aged face and held up his hands, "Nothing is wrong with her eyesight, Mrs. Spell."
The room smelled of alcohol, steel, and vanilla candles. My head throbbed from the artificial lights that seemed to endlessly buzz, the same as they did in every doctor's office we went to.
Mom huffed, or sighed, it was hard to tell but it was certain she was frustrated. Shooting her eyes in his direction, "Well, I disagree." She spits. Mom had fangs that dripped of venom and eyes that narrowed into slits.
I rubbed my eyes.
Dr. Tusake shrugged his shoulders and glanced down at the examination papers, "Medically speaking, there is nothing wrong with your daughter." Turning his eyes back towards mom and me, he gave us a blank stare.
"My daughter," Mom's bottom lip trembled, grasping at normality before cutting herself off. "My daughter and I thank you, Dr. Tusake." With that, she stood abruptly, smiled, and stiffly left the room without saying another word. 

As we drove home to our normal house in the normal suburban neighborhood that I've always lived it, I felt a pang of guilt for my mom.
As I watched the cookie cutter houses pass by with their lawns perfectly manicured, I saw Finn, a little boy that I often babysat, and waved to him. 
Finn smiles a big toothless grin at me and waved back. And then in place of his shaggy black hair, on his shoulders, was a smiling pumpkin.
Taking a deep breath I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned back against the car seat, and focused on the music coming from the radio. I stayed this way until we arrived at the house, which to make matters worse- or better?- my brother Dylan had made a surprise trip home from college.
Mom immediately smiled than glanced towards my direction, "Say nothing to Dylan about the doctor visits, we don't need him to worry. Okay?"
I nodded and climbed out of the car, avoiding eye contact as I hurried inside. The house smelled of coffee and lavender laundry detergent, and sweat?
"Hey Dracula," My brother yelled from the couch in the living room, the source of the sweat. "Plan on actually being a normal human being this visit?"
My skin crawled involuntarily.
"Dylan Thomas," Mom said as she stepped into the house, "you leave your sister alone." She warned him then began fussing at him for bringing sweaty clothes into the house.
Escaping into my room, I felt a sense of security and relief, however, I could still hear mom and Dylan talking downstairs. Doctor offices were the worse, their odors regularly giving me headaches while making me feel as far from normal as I could be.
Pulling off my sweater and pants, I climbed into my bed and pulled my oversized comforter over my head.
Blood was all that I could taste now.
I squeezed my eyes shut as hard as I was able until I passed out.