Thirty One Days

Negitive

"All tests came back negative," Doctor Rogers put up a x-ray of my torso for us to see, "Still nothing to explain the intense vomiting fit that your daughter had however." He looked over my medical history and his examination paperwork.
"What about her sensitivity?" Mom asked, seems that she noticed my flinches and squinting moments. They've become increasingly hard to hide. My head began to pulsate in tune with the buzzing of the lights causing a headache.
"Could you be more specific?" Dr. Rogers asked, his forked beard had dripped blood onto my papers and began to pool at his feet. The crimson stood out against the speckled white and grey tile that was throughout the hospital.
The room smelt of rubbing alcohol, latex, and cologne, this one didn't have the same homey vanilla scent like the last one had.
"I don't really know how to explain it," Mom began, I could feel her eyes fall onto me but I couldn't break myself away from staring at the pool. "See? She does this where she goes blank, sometimes it's when we're sitting around or even occasionally when we're talking."
Now avoiding eye contact was my choice because discomfort had settled in the pit of my stomach as my mom continued to expose my life. To this man that I've never meet. The appointment had been scheduled to see what caused my incident last night, I knew very well what had caused it but I couldn't tell mom that so I went along with the doctors visit.
"Mrs. Spell, may I speak to you in the hallway?" This caused me to look up at mom as she nodded and followed Doctor Rogers out into the hallway. A slight betrayal feeling blossomed inside while I tried to stay calm, mom would tell me what they talked about once we leave. She always does.
My eyes traveled around the small hospital room taking in the different utensils and equipment that hung from the wall and decorated majority of the counter space. Posters covered the back of the door advocating to stop smoking and sign up for regular check ups and don't forget to check yourself for lumps.
Then, my line of vision fell on my x-ray. I've had a lot of them in the past seven months, on all different parts of my body. However, this X-ray seemed different to me almost like my bones were splintered and fragile, and the mass on the center, my heart, seemed smaller. Before I realized it, what were suppose to be my ribs, began enclosing themselves around my heart and I could feel it. A deep pain in my chest stole the air from my lungs as my eyes involuntarily watered.
The door opened and the pain vanished as mom and doctor Rogers stepped back in.
"Stevie, what's wrong?" Mom immediately asked as I noticed that I was gripping my chest with my hand.
Forcing I smile I said, "Just a sneeze that won't come out,"
Mom's face shifted from concerned to agitated as she turned back to Doctor Rogers. "Well, thank you for your professional opinion but we'll pass. Come on Stevie."
"All I said was to consider-"
"I know what you said," she snapped as she grabbed her coat and slung the door open. Mom's shadow doubled in size, with muscles to match it, as it towered over the Doctor and his shadow, who cowered.

As we pulled into the driveway behind a service truck, after a silent 2 and a half hour drive, mom turned towards me and gripped my hand. The sudden touch caused me to flinch and I saw tears pool in mom's green eyes.
"Oh Stevie," Her voice was soft as she stroked my hand. "I'm sorry."
"What for?" I asked looking away from her as guilt overcame me. Again. For ruining my mom's life.
"That this is happening to you," Mom squeezed my hand before letting it go and I instantly wished she would have held on longer. "I can't help but feel like this is my fault,"
"It's not mom, it's no ones fault,"
"No, no. Your grandmother always warned me about something like this," My eyes turned toward her immediately as she said this. Her grandma? Grandma Pearl? Mom shook her head and whipped a stray tear. "Oh good, your dad called the cleaners."
Casper's Carper Cleaners truck sat in the driveway in front of us, a red truck with a vacuuming ghost on it.
And just like that, mom had changed from the conversation and got out of the car.  After a moment of calming down I went inside at the same time as the cleaners were trying to leave, creating an awkward situation.
"Are you the partier?" The younger of the two guys smiled at me as he loaded the equipment inside the van.
My cheeks blushed crimson, "Yes," I laughed softly then headed upstairs to avoid anymore conversation.
The smell of cleaner hung heavy in my room as I entered it and was happy to find that nothing had been moved. My bookshelves still sat next to my window across on the other side of my room and my usually messy bed was made neatly, thanks to my dad. Pictures of my friends and I still hung on my wall and caused me to smile.
Moving closer to the one of my old best friend, Chelsea, and I when we went the circus and took photos with the circus performers. Then to another photo of the swim team at our first meet. And another of my brother and I when we were smaller and visiting Hollywood with my our family.
Before I knew it I was crying, sitting on my bed, clutching a pillow.
Why me?