Generation 1 Prologue: Amani Vista

“Miss Vista,” Dr. Fischer looked solemnly into my eyes before continuing with his movie-like speech, “I regret to inform you that you have been diagnosed with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, more commonly known as OCD.” Mom gasped, and Dad instantly put a comforting arm around her, cooing words of consolation.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I mumbled, picking a piece of lint off of my freshly pressed shirt.

“This is no joking matter, Amani!” Mom shrieked from behind me. Sheesh, you would’ve thought the doctor just told me I had one week to live based on her reaction…

“Now, for treatment I was thinking-” Ugh, I hate how he acts like I’m just another situation in one of his college textbooks!

“Actually, I think I’m comfortable living with my disorder,” I stated proudly.

Mom sniffled, wiping her eyes with a Kleenex. “What did you just say?”

“I don’t want treatment, Mum.”

“What?! That’s crazy! Amani, we’ve raised you much better than that! Besides, it’s up to us, we’re your parents.” A smug smile spread across her face as she proved her point.   

“Actually, Mrs. Vista, it’s up to Amani. With her birthday being last week, she’s officially an adult and the law states that she is now allowed to make these types of decisions,” Dr. Fischer piped up, assisting my point of view beautifully. “It would be different, however, if her life was in danger. But with her form of the disease, she should be capable of living as close to a normal life as possible.”

“But we’re her parents! That’s got to count for something!” Dad chimed in.

“You can beg and plead all you want Mr. Vista, but Amani has the final say with what she does here.”   

Three pairs of eyes simultaneously settled on me. “I’m fine guys, really. I’ve been dealing with it for all these years; I can handle it for however long I need to.” Knowing my decision had minimal chance of being swayed; I stood up from the cushioned chair and grabbed my Coach purse. 

“Alrighty then, I’ll just cancel the prescription and be on my way. You folks have a nice day.” Dr. Fischer hastily grabbed my file from his desk and bolted out of his office, leaving the three of us to contemplate the life changing move I had just conducted in a matter of seconds.  

“Are you sure you want to go through with this, Amani?” my mother inquired coldly.

“Yes, Mom, it’s what I want.” My dad grunted at my persistence.

“Then I’m afraid this is ‘Goodbye!’, Amani. I have absolutely no desire to have an unreasonable perfectionist living under my roof. Your father and I surely won’t miss you or your obnoxious ways a bit, so don’t bother staying in contact. I’m ashamed to know that you’re the result of eighteen years of dedication and hard work.”    

And that was that. My mother was unfortunately true to her word and I was in a cab to Barnacle Bay that afternoon. Thankfully, she hadn’t just thrown me out on the street. She gifted me the key to a summer home I had no knowledge of and sent me on my merry way.

So here I am, Amani Vista, ready to start a life with the little that I have. A life of balance and harmony.