I bleed when I fall down

'Tears don't mean you're losing. Everybody's bruising'

Tuesday December 3rd, 2030.

Dianne watches as the child slumps into her seat, swinging her legs back at forth. There is a frown painted onto her face, she doesn't want to be here. 'It's okay baby girl.' Dianne reassures the child, keeping her voice down because the waiting room has other people in it. Dianne knew that she didn't want to have this monitor on, she also didn't want to go into school. Dianne had insisted that she did go, they needed an accurate reading, so she had to resume normal activities once the monitor was attached.

'Amelia Sugg come this way.' The nurse calls out, grabbing her mums' hand she walks towards the cubicles. The monitor is much smaller than she thought it would be. The nurse goes through the process of attaching the device to her daughter tiny body, sticking the monitors on her chest, and getting the child to-do up her shirt. She goes through the stages of what is going to happen, before setting the machine up so the pair can get on with their day.

The walk to their car is silent, Dianne notices her daughter kicking at stones on the way to the car. 'Honestly baby girl, it's fine.' She tries to reassure the child, who just stares at her. 'What's that look for?' She asks as the pair get in the car.

'I don't want to go to school.' She huffs. 'I'll get laughed at.' Dianne looks at the child.

'No one needs to know baby girl.' The monitor is so small, she had informed her teachers, so she would get out of doing PE.

'Why are you making me go to school?' Dianne doesn't know how to logically explain to the child. She is too young to understand why Dianne is subjecting her to this trauma. As she gets older, Dianne hopes she will understand. Right now, the nine-year-old didn't understand that this is for her benefit. Dianne didn't want to inflict such pain on the child, she certainly doesn't enjoy it.

'You have to, it's the law.' Dianne turns out of the road, the school becoming clearer and clearer. 'It's not that bad, having the monitor.'

'How would you know?' Her daughter accuses. 'Have you ever had this?' Dianne is taken aback by the child, she had never openly said anything rude about Dianne. This was new to Dianne, this is the first time since it was flagged up that her daughter was saying something rude to her, and she wasn't sure on how to deal with it. 'You don't know what it's like.'

'I-'

'No, you don't. You never make me go after the doctor's appointments, even when I want too. I don't want to go to school with this stupid thing on, and you're making me.'

'Amelia.' She sighs, she feels like the worst mother in the world, she wants to tell the child she can have the day off, but she also needs her to go to school, she wants to get her a diagnosis as soon as she can, as a result she has to make her do normal things, sitting around all day won't help. She helps her daughter get out of the car, grabbing her hand as she crosses the road, the pout still splattered across her face.

'I hate you.' She mutters as the pair are buzzed in, Dianne rolls her eyes, kind of wishing Joe was here so he could play the bad guy. She always feels like she is the bad cop, he gets to joke around with the kids, she's the strict one, making them do things they don't necessarily want to-do.

'Morning Amelia.' The woman beams, she shy's away from the receptionist. 'Where has your lovely smile gone?' She shrugs, as the receptionist looks at mum. 'I'll let mummy sign you in, and we will go to your class, sound like a plan?' She shakes her head, and Dianne's heart sinks a little bit seeing the fear in her eyes.

'Have a good day at school.' Dianne crouches down to the child's level, checking the monitor, before sorting out her shirt so it isn't seen, conscious that her daughter is feeling self-conscious. She passes her the bag and her lunchbox, she had given her an extra-special lunch so that she would have something to look forward too. Dianne watches as she disappears with the secretary, turning to face the other female in the room. 'If she kicks off, please give me a call. She is worried about wearing this monitor, but she needs to get a normal reading.' She scrawls her daughter's name on the book, handing the pre-written letter to the receptionist.