She
would never grow up, never kiss a boy, would never grow old with me.
I remember hearing the phone ring at the hour when nobody should be trying to
reach anybody.
I hear a groggy “hello” as my dad picks up the phone.
Suddenly, I hear an almost inhuman shriek, a gasp of pain, coming from my mom.
I run to my parent’s room, and see an outline of them huddled together, crying.
As my mind puts two and two together, I feel my heart drop to the ground. Late at night… only member of our family
missing…going to a party… all of the realizations flooding my mind. In a
flurry of activity we race to the hospital, the ICU and are greeting with strange
noises and smells that I’ve never had to experience before. We hear whispers of
“she won’t make it” and “worst crash I’ve ever seen” and finally, “I hope at
least one survives”. I’m praying that the gossip is not about my sister. We are
greeted by a doctor wearing a 5’o clock shadow and a stone cold face. He says that there is nothing more that
they can do. Now we have to choose when to let her go.
I say good-bye to my best friend at 3:17 A.M.
A family's worst nightmare for sure. Your description of the hushed dialogue and the doctor's face is vivid and real.
ReplyDeleteGood morning, M'Kenna,
ReplyDeleteThis reminds me of a piece I wrote a few years ago, "Ashes of a Memory" that depicted in rather gruesome details the consequences of drunk driving and the horrors of losing someone close to you. It's a terrifying, ripping feeling to be suddenly bereft of your loved ones. Good job capturing the quiet, dark emotion of this scene.
Have a lovely night,
Zachary