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Chapter 11: I Accept
Last Updated:
2025-03-08 01:50:39
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AIDEN'S POV "Well,I guess it's because I have something called Tourette's syndrome." I leaned back in the chair, looking at all the white around me. It felt calm, and that made me feel better. There was a long silence from the other side of the window. "How long have you known?" "About a week." I heard pages turning on a clipboard from the other side. I smiled sadly. Usually, it's the patient who doesn’t know. "How can that be? It says here your tic attack happened two days ago," another voice said. It was a middle aged woman's voice. Both doctors had accents. One sounded Italian, and the other probably Swiss from the French side. "Yes," I said slowly, giving them time to write. "But I felt the attack coming in the days before, so I looked it up." "So you knew it was going to happen?" the Swiss doctor asked, surprised. "The attack." I nodded. She gasped. "Poor thing," she said. It wasn’t very doctor-like. "Well that's a new one. I’ve never been called that before,"
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AIDEN'S POV THE PAST The first time I went to a juvenile treatment clinic was when I was fourteen. Earlier that week, I hurt myself so badly that I was still bleeding and had lost some teeth. My face was so swollen that it took three people to recognize me when they found me on the library floor. My mother went with me to the clinic in Switzerland. She didn’t want to go. I wore a coat, hat, and sunglasses to hide my bruises, like a celebrity trying to stay unnoticed. My mother didn’t say much on the flight from England to Zurich, except for one quiet sentence after the flight attendants had passed by. “Your father can’t know.” That was the first thing she said. Not asking how I was. Not asking how it happened. “Your father can’t know.” I didn’t say anything. She was right. Father couldn’t find out. And honestly, there was no way to explain what happened. One moment, I was sitting in the library studying hard to be first in my class like always, feeling a strange pressure i
