The room is so colorful, I'm almost mesmerized. It's so quiet and peaceful and relaxing and it doesn't feel exactly right but it feels good.
Mom's hand is soft, and she holds it as we wait in the wooden and couch-like chairs in the waiting room. I'm not nervous, but I think she might be, so I don't let go.
I love Mom, but I don't know how to say it out loud without stumbling over my words. I have so many thoughts, but I just can't get them out right. It makes me upset, and sometimes I cry because of it. When Mom asks what's wrong when I cry, I get even more upset, because I can't tell her why I'm upset.
"Georgie Smith?" A voice that isn't Mom calls. I look up, and Mom is looking at me.
"That's us," She says, slowly standing up, still not letting go of my hand. I walk with her to the door that the woman is standing at, and she smiles at me. I don't smile back, I don't know her.
Mom and the woman start to talk, mostly about me. My birthday is 10-01-05. I'm 5. School starts soon. I don't talk. I've said six words. Mom, Dad, loud, stop, no, and like.
The woman nods, tapping her pen to her chin. It's one of those pens that you can click, my favorite kind. The noise is right.
They take me to stand on a metal thing, it shows a number on it. 34.7, it says. I don't know what that means. Then I stand next to small little lines, and I feel something on my head, but I can't look up to see what--I have to look forward. "32 inches," She tells Mom.
32 inches. 32, 33, 34, inches. Inches, inches, inches, inches, inches. 32, 32, 32. Inches.
Those two words repeat in my head for a little bit longer, and they only stop when Mom and the lady start talking again. The lady says things like "under weight" and something that starts with an 'ott' sound.
Mom isn't smiling, and they keep talking. She asks Mom a bunch more questions before giving her a few pieces of paper with little words on them, next to bigger words.
In the car, Mom has her phone next to her ear, and is talking to someone she calls Sean. I've heard that name at home before. "They say he might have.." Then she says the 'ott' word. I don't know what it is, or what it means, but I don't think Mom likes it. "Yeah, they want him to go to this group thing...it's with a bunch of other children. They want to see how he interacts with them, if at all."
I watch the front of me, which is Mom's seat. I don't like the window, it's too bright. Mom puts a cover in front of it for me, though.
"Of course I'm going to say yes, do you want to live your whole life not knowing why he doesn't seem like all the other kids? Why we had to take him out of day care for having a melt down when one of the girls sitting in front of him had a ponytail? Sean, listen.."
She talks for a little while longer before putting her phone down and breathing out. "I love you, Georgie. I really do," Mom says.
I want to say it back. "Luh.. luh- yuh.."
I give up after a few more tries. I feel like crying, but I don't want to. I just sit there. Upset, angry, and confused. I want to be able to say it back.
"Mom," Is all I say. It's all I want to say. "Mom," I repeat.
"Mom," Mom says back. She sounds like shes smiling. I like it when Mom smiles.
//
647 words
can you figure out what firkle has?? ack i want it to be a surprise, but if you've already got it, i'd like to know.
YOU ARE READING
unreadable // south park - firkle x ike
Fanfiction"It's funny that he seems to know the perfect place to avoid people in a place full of people, yet he doesn't seem to realize that he's my best friend." // no update schedule, but i'm trying my best
