Alex Carter: A Red Band Society Fanfiction

Hiding and Exposing

Emma stood in her room, looking around. She took in the sight, and was struck by how eerily similar her room's state was to when she left. It felt like stepping back in time, and it settled like a pit in her stomach. She refused to let herself think about it, and set to work unpacking. 

She began to remove her folded clothes, and grabbed a few shirts to put away in her dresser. She kneeled to open a lower drawer, and a bad stench immediately hit her nose. She leaned back slightly, confused and disgusted. Realization hit her, and she immediately stood to close her open bedroom door. She locked it, shooting a concerned look to the open dresser drawer, still not fully convinced it was what she thought. 

She knelt once more in front of the dresser, and stuck her hand inside, feeling towards the back. She felt something, and her suspicions were confirmed. She held a bundle of paper towels, and opened it, ignoring the smell worsening. Nestled in the paper towels, was what once was half of a sandwich. It was green and grey at this point, and fuzzy. 

A knock on her door startled Emma, and she quickly covered the sandwich again, and threw it back in the drawer, knowing whoever was on the other side of the door would notice the smell if she threw it in her small trashcan. She closed the drawer, and for added measure, grabbed a bottled of perfume and sprayed it a few times. 

She stepped away from the dresser, just as her mother opened the door. "Hey, how's it going?" 

"Fine," Emma responded, busying herself with the rest of her clothes. 

Her mother lingered, despite the curt response. "Do you need anything?" 

"Nope, I'm good, thanks," she responded, turning around briefly to shoot her mother a smile. 

She nodded, unsure. "Well, when you're ready, we need to talk about school and all your extra curriculars, I've been thinking about it, and maybe you were a little overextended before."

Emma paused unloading her bag, to turn to her mother again. "Yeah, whatever you think is best." Again, with that smile. 

She turned back to her things when her mother's look was pressing and too hard to read. "I don't know what is best for you Emma, I'm going to need your help." 

Emma paused again. She was right, she doesn't know what's best for her, because she dropped out of Emma's treatment, leaving her father the only one of her family that was even informed. So, Emma decided she deserved some answers. "How come you never visited me in the hospital?"

Her mother looked over at her, having the audacity to look confused. "I did visit you."

"In the beginning," Emma qualified. "But I haven't seen you in months." She saw the sting in her mother's eyes, and Emma realized quickly this conversation was putting her in too far over her head. "Never mind, it doesn't matter."

"No, it does, it matters." Her mother approached, and Emma wished she wouldn't. "Right. Honey, the first few times I came to see you, I felt like I, I didn't know what to say." She shook her head, looking away from Emma. "I got so scared I was going to say the wrong thing," she reiterated. 

"The wrong thing would've been better than nothing." 

Her mother still didn't look at her. "I, I'm not sure that that's true." 

Emma blinked, trying to understand what she meant. 

Her mother sighed. "I've been going to groups," she admitted. "For parents who have children with, uh similar issues, I wanted to educate myself so that I could be better, help you, yknow, get better." Emma stayed quiet. "One of the moms, her daughter, um, died. Can you imagine?"