She sits in the grey room with the colourful toys and magazines, her head is bowed her arms are crossed. She waits for her name to be called so she can sit in another grey room down the hall and talk about whatever it is they are going to talk about.
She doesn’t know why she is here. She goes to these meetings for the same reason she doesn’t do P.E anymore – because she is told to. There is no point in kicking up a fuss about it because it won’t do anything.
Everything has changed recently. Only a few weeks ago she was winning races at the athletics meets and now she has to be driven everywhere. Her teachers are always watching her, always asking her if she is ok. She doesn’t see the problem.
Her mind is cast back to her 8 year old self. Her happy, innocent self who ate two packets of crisps everyday and didn’t think twice about it. Her careless self who would mix two different cereals in the morning for breakfast just because she could. Her liberal self who would ride her bike around the block after school because she wanted to, not because she felt she had to.
Those memories felt like a lifetime away now.
Looking down at her chapped hands that resembled those of a 60 year old she feels afraid. Things are being taken out of her control and she is scared. Maybe she has gone too far? Sure, she has cut out all junk food from her diet, but don’t many people do that in the pursuit of better health? And exercising everyday is ideal and meant to be sought after, right? … But perhaps crying when told you are not allowed to ride to school anymore is not what most people do.
Why does she care so much? Why does she feel like she is grieving something when she watches her friends do sport but she cannot join in? Most people in her class would do anything to get out of participating; they’d fake notes from their parents saying that they’re sick, they’d accidentally “forget” to bring their P.E kits to school or they’d suddenly develop a very nasty cough. So why isn’t she like them, why does it bother her so much whether she can or can’t do sports? What is wrong with her?
She regains focus. She is back in the room. The chubby lady across from her has just asked her what she likes doing -she looks friendly enough, but not to be trusted. The girl offers a guarded response, careful not to give too much away “I like playing sports, cooking and …”
“Cooking! You like to cook?”
“Yes”
“What do you like to cook?”
“I like baking cakes”
“Do you ever eat them?”
“No.”
The lady writes something down on her clipboard. The girl fidgets in her chair. Another question is fired.
* * *
Finally, the meeting is over and the girl stands up. Aching from sitting in the same position for so long, she makes her way to the door and begins to think of an excuse she can tell her friends at school to cover for her time away; A meeting? No, that’s too formal and they’ll only ask what it was about. The doctors? No, they’ll just ask what is wrong. A family matter? … Sounds intense, but it’ll do.
Getting out of the car, the girl makes her way towards the school gate and signs herself back in. She walks to class and relaxes knowing that she can carry on as normal now. She puts on a brave face and pushes this mornings events to the back of her mind. She is still not sure what the point of that all was or why she was even there but is confident that whatever happened in that room will have no lasting effect on her …
The Honest Life 