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The Accident chapter 3 (rewrite)

The Accident chapter 3 (rewrite)

Posted February 16th, 2019 by chicken123

by Ava
in Michigan

"They said she was never going to wake up."

      "Will she be alright?"

"What happened?"

“The poor girl.”

Voices filled the room I was in. Where was I? As my vision cleared, I saw people. What was going on? 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? It was almost Christmas. I had to get up and wrap my mom’s present!

    I forced myself to crack open 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 there 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 to 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 pushed everyone out of the room except for an old woman, and walked over to my bed. He laid a hand on my forehead to check my temperature. 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, even though I couldn't feel or move anything. 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." He gestured to the old woman that had stayed in the room. 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 hit the back of her head. She lost her memory just from yesterday. She won't be able to remember what happened, just little details." Ohh. So that's what happened to me. I lost my memory? 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 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 gravelly 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 felt so alone. And it was my fault.

My grandmother took her hand off of mine, and I watched as she placed something white and broken onto my nightstand. It was all broken up into little pieces, just like my heart was now. It was my mom’s World’s Best Mom mug. And it was broken in half. Maybe I could glue it back together. If only I could do that to my heart.

 


 


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