Her leg was bouncing up and down as if she was on a trampoline, one limb on, one limb so still and stuck to the ground she was glued to her spot. Couldn't move if she wanted. Eyes on the ground, she noticed an unsual blue stain on her white left tennis shoe. So faint and tucked between the patent creases, she never noticed before. She wonders where it came from.
"Ms. Wilson? Your thoughts?" Her eyes snapped back towards the doctor. The green satin couch was sinked in at the center where she sat across from her, and her blue eyes holding an unwavering gazed, her head slightly tilted, awaiting her response. She noticed her eyes had a speck of brown in the center.
"I'm sorry, say that again?" She asked politely, feeling embarrassed for her lack of attention, but not enough so to hold proper engaging eye contact. The doctor would see right through her. The doctor was wearing black oxfords, looking recently polished.
"Your mother thinks this will be a safe space for you, do you agree?" The doctor's voice rings in her head. She tilts her head towards her mother who was looking at her with frantic eyes. Her mother wants her to get better, to get proper treatment. She was doing this for her. Not for herself. Never for herself.
"Yes Ma'am." She responded promptly, wanting to leave the room right there. The colorful nick nacks and paintings surrounding her were astronomical, and the motivational poster spouting "You can do it" makes her believe she can make it to the door if she were clever enough. She isn't though.
"Perfect. You will feel welcome here. I promise." The doctor most noticed her slight hesitation and reluctance, considering she was educated to help people like her, because she reaches over and places a bony hand on top of her frail one. She whispers a quiet thank you before looking to her mother, her eyes glassy under the midday sunlight streaming through the paned window.
