The clock wouldn't stop ticking, each second digging a little deeper into her skull. The wind from the open window tousled the curtains and struck the glass chime, setting off ripples of melodies across the walls.
Anna kept her head glued to her knees, tightly clutching her skirt. She took a silent, shaky breath in an effort to calm her beating heart. The ringing sound felt as though it was pushing her to the edge. Maybe if she stayed small enough, the noise inside her head would quiet down.
How much longer?
Her mother sitting at her side nudged her to sit up straighter, her brows tightly knit in disapproval. Raising her face to meet her mother's eyes, she silently lowered her head and clenched her fists tighter.
"So what's the evaluation, Dr. Browen?" Her father asked impatiently, his voice already carrying disappointment.
"Well..." Doctor Brown put down the stack of papers he had been so carefully assessing.
"I don't think any of the recommended methods worked much." He sighed as he took off his glasses, "Looks like her lack of structure isn't getting any better, even with all the scheduling we're doing."
He raised his gaze to look at her. The look in his eyes was so utterly disappointed that Anna felt the urge to dig a hole and crawl into it right then and there.
"Anna, did you really follow the schedule exactly as instructed?" He inquired.
"I..." She bit her trembling lip and clenched her skirt harder. "I really tried my best! But sometimes...when there was too much work at once..." Her voice faded into a meek whisper.
"Hah!" She heard her mother jeer. "Its all lies doctor. She hardly ever sat down to follow it. Every time you go check up on her she's either playing games on her phone or just sitting at the corner dazing out. I'm telling you, she didn't even try this time!"
"No I really did try...! This time I promise I tried..!"
Her words hit the sterile air and vanished into nothingness, unheard.
The doctor's polite sigh said more than any lecture could. Her father's pointed gaze felt like an accusation she could never shake off.
Anna's throat burned. It wasn't fair. It never was. They looked at her like she was lazy, like she chose to be this way, as if willpower alone could silence the rapture inside her head and the fog that clouded her mind. They treated her like she had been actively making the decision to be the person that she was.
When in reality, if given the chance, she would rip and tear out every single part of her body to replace it with something better, something more functional, something that would satisfy her parents' expectations of her.
She dug her nails into her thigh until it hurt. Maybe the pain would make her focus. Maybe it would make her feel alive, like an awake and conscious human being.
"Doctor Browen you have to do something about this." Her father leaned forward, hands braced on the desk. His voice had that clipped, demanding edge he always took on whenever things weren't going his way. "Are you sure there's no medication she could take? ADHD or what not, its damaging her grades very badly. She needs to start focusing properly on her studies. You know she's already in her senior year now? In about a year she's be taking her SAT, we can't have her waste time staring at the wall at this critical stage!"
"Unfortunately her body doesn't take very well to the medication currently available, and its already a problem that most ADHD drugs are severely short in the market" Dr. Browen spoke, flipping though her medical file with slow, measured fingers. "I reckon it will take you months to get one."
Anna's mother exhaled sharply, the tremor in her voice cutting through the air. "Then what are we supposed to do...?"
The weight of her parent's helplessness pressed on her with the strength of a thousand bricks. How badly had she wished to somehow ease their worry, a few words of comfort, a sincere promise to change herself so they wouldn't have to fret for her sake.
But she knew it was useless. Because she had done it countless times already.
Every single one had ended with utter failure.
How could she ever trust that this time wouldn't be the same?
"Hmm..." Dr. Browen's gentle humming cut through her spiraling thoughts. "Maybe what she needs is a change in environment? Oftentimes with people who have ADHD, a stagnant life style causes them to lose a lot of motivation to better themselves. In such cases, its better to introduce some novelty in their life. Maybe a different bus route, or maybe a change in her room's décor." He suggested.
"Novelty..." Her father tilted his head and mused. "Yes, perhaps we could try that."
He looked like he had come to a decision already. She tried to calm the shiver of uncertainty she felt with his changing expression.
By the time they reached home after the appointment, her father had already fully made up his mind.
"We're transferring Anna to a new school." He declared, in a voice that left no room for negotiation.
"Are you crazy? Right now?" Her mother shouted back, incredulous. "She just started her final year! How can she transfer all of a sudden like this?"
"It's the best possible option at the moment. That way at least she can start focusing on her exams again." He calmly took off his jacket and strode towards the kitchen. "I already have a school in mind, its near my office too. Gravemont Academy, its pretty famous in the area."
"But still, suddenly transferring like this is not right. Don't you know how long it takes her to adjust to new environments? What if all her time is spent on that?" Her mother followed closely behind, picking up his jacket from the sofa.
"No, this is the best way. Didn't you hear Dr. Browen? He said she needed novelty. A change in environment will help her start anew. Besides, I'll be nearby, so we can keep an eye on her there too."
"But still..."
Her parents' voices blended into one long hum; she caught only fragments, 'change,' 'routine,' 'try again', each word hitting a bruise she'd stopped pointing out. Once again, decisions of her life were being made without any considerations of her opinions.
Arguing felt useless; it was easier to nod and pretend the idea of change didn't terrify her.
That night, Anna sat by her window long after everyone had gone to sleep, the faint chime of the wind bells carrying through the quiet. Change, they said, as if it were a cure. As if she hadn't tried changing a hundred times already. The city lights shimmered through the mist, but in the corner of her eye, just for a moment, one of them moved.
A shape where no shape should be.
She blinked, and it was gone. Yet, a cold thought whispered at the back of her mind. Maybe the change had already begun.