The Accident Chapter 3
Posted December 18th, 2018 by chicken123
"They said she was never going to wake up."
"Will she be alright?"
"What happened?" Voices filled the room I was in. Where was I? As my vision cleared, I saw people. What was going on? Memories flooded into my blurry head like a waterfall. The accident. The bright lights. The loud noises. My mom. Oh, my mom. Maybe it was just a nightmare. Maybe she's OK. I tried to sit up, but couldn't move. I tried to make a noise, any noise. But I couldn't. All I could do was sit on this uncomfortable bed and listen to what was being said. What was being said? My mind was so foggy. Wait, why was I here again?
I forced myself to crack oprn an eyelid. There were people everywhere. Nurses, people crying, people wearing blue scrubs, people with worried expressions on their faces. Some were staring at me, others had their backs turned. An old woman, with long silver hair pulled into a braid that was half pulled out, was sitting next to my bed. Who was she? Why was she this close to me? I could feel her breathing on me. Maybe she was teher during whatever happened to me. What had happened to me? Where was my mom? I still couldn't move that much, but my body started to get tingly as my blood started flowing again. I slightly tilted my head, to where it wouldn't hurt if I moved, but I could still see the lady sitting next t o my bed. She gasped.
"Doctor! She's awake!" I heard her cry. Just then, a guy I assumed must be the doctor walked into my very crowded room. He walked over to my bed, and layed a hand on my forhead. If there was a girl in the hospital in a hospital bed unable to move, and I was the doctor, the first thing I would've done probably wouldn't have been to feel my temperature. Just saying.
But he did anyway. Then he felt my pulse. Duh. I was obviously alive. But this doctor apparently thought this was another checkup. he then touched my IV, which was almost empty and poked into my right arm. Um, ow. Hey, I guess that's good. I mean, I felt him poke the IV. At least I was able to start feeling things again. "She's going to be OK." He said to the old lady next to my bed. She let out a breath, and I wondered why she was so relieved. The doctor looked at me. "How are you feeling?" He asked. I wanted to say, "Gee, I don't know. You just poked a needle that was hanging out of my arm, and everybody thought I was dead, but day is just swell. By the way, what a nice tie you're wearing!" But I didn't. Instead I mustered up enough strength to whisper I was fine.
"I'm here to help you. You've been through a lot. You're lucky you're alive." he said, like it was just another casual day. "This is your grandmother." Wait. What? I have a grandmother? I don't remember having a grandmother. Apparently the doctor sensed my confusion because I saw his brow wrinkle. He leaned in to my grandmother's ear and I barely heard him whisper, "I think she doesn't remember you. My guess is that she lost her memory in the accident. She may possibly even have long-term memory loss." Ohh. So that's what happened to me. I have long-term memory loss? That explains a lot. I don't remember what happened. All i remember is that i was with my mom, driving me to school. But where was my mom? I needed to find her. I said something that was supposed to sound like, "where's my mom?" But it came out in a jumble of sounds. I tried again. This time it sounded more like what I wanted to say. The doctor abruptly stopped talking to supposedly my grandmother, and looked at me. He rubbed a knuckle across his chin, then sighed. He took a breath, then said in a clear but gravely voice, "Your mom...well, she didn't make it out of the accident." It seemed like the world had stopped. I couldn't hear anything. My mom. She looked after me. Raised me. made me who I am. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her. She made sure I was fed, educated, clean, kind, and had a good life. She was there for me and I was there for her when my dad died. Now I was an orphan.
The world flew back into view, reality sinking in. I was an orphan. And it was my fault that my mom died. If I wouldn't have missed the bus. She wouldn't have had to drive me to school, and we would have never gotten in the accident.
I realized I was crying. My grandmother had her warm hand on my hand and was rocking back and forth. I just wanted to disappear. I was all alone. And it was my fault.
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