And here's a short story I wrote:
Chapter 1: What went wrong?
I had just gotten home from volunteering at an old folks home in New York. My best friend had dropped me off. Everything seemed normal to me, nothing was wrong with the house, Vermillion my fox was fine, the dishes sat piled in the sink as usual, and the trash still smelled of rotten fruit and spoiled milk. But something felt wrong. Where was Mom? On a Wednesday night she should be home by now: 7:49 p.m., but she wasn’t. Did she have to pick up her boyfriend from work that day? Yes. But she gets out at five…. She would have called me that day if she had to stop somewhere. Panic shot through my veins. I told myself to calm down but the air was denser than usual. I picked up the old plain colored phone with those chips of creamy paint still clinging on to that piece of plastic crap we called a phone. I dialed Mom’s number without even looking as if my fingers had memorized the familiar numbers, as if my ears had always known the pattern of those obnoxious beeps that played each time you pressed down on a button. I had waited for the ring, but there wasn’t one… instead an automated message played:
“The number you are trying to call is not in service. Please check the number and dial again.” BEEP! Was it even possible that I had dialed the wrong number? I was not sure. So I tried again, this time as if I was feasting my eyes upon the numbers, paying close attention.
You would wonder why I would get so worked up over one tiny thing like my mom not being home yet. It’s just because when it comes to me… if there is one tiny thing off, something was usually wrong.
I waited again for the ring, but all I got was the same automated message. So I called her boyfriends cell. It rang! But there was no answer, just:
“Hey! It’s Ryan. I’m not here to pick up the phone right now so please leave your name and number and I’ll call you right back!” *beep*
“s**t!” I muttered. Then the phone rang: RING, RING, RING, RING! I almost didn’t pick it up, but on the last ring I did.
“Hello?”
“Yes, hello. Is this Arianna Piscinelli? This is Adrienne of the local police speaking.”
“Yes, this is Arianna. Is there some sort of problem?” I knew something was wrong. Now I would find out exactly what.
“Yes actually there is. How old are you sweetie?” she said in a condescending tone.
“I’m fifteen.” I sarcastically muttered.
“Do you have an adult with you right now?”
“No! Just tell me, is something wrong?!” I screeched. Then I immediately calmed myself down again. I have to watch myself when I get angry. At least that’s what my therapist said. I had always argued with my mom about therapy. I said that it is just paying someone fifty bucks an hour to listen to your feelings and problems so that everyone else doesn’t have to, and that’s what I believed.
“Hello? Ma’am I would appreciate it if you could calm down please.”
“I AM PURFECTLY CALM!!!!! What happened? Where is my Mom? Tell me!”
“Okay, your mom is Amelia Piscinelli, am I right?”
“Ya, go on…” I hated these stupid over-efficient law people who never told you anything straight out.
“Well ma’am, she has gotten into a terrible car crash. Worst I’ve seen in a while. Blood everywhere. Car all smashed up. I believe she will have to be air-lifted to the main hospital down town. She is in serious condition. Her fiancé was in the car with her too. He is already in an ambulance on the way to the hospital. I was just calling to inform you of this. And, would you like a police vehicle to come down to the house to pick you up?”
Wait. What had she just said? My mother was eight months pregnant with my soon to be little sister… And she had gotten into a terrible car accident?!
“ma’am?” The police woman questioned.
“What? Oh, I mean yes I would like a car to come please.”
“Okay, they will be there in two minutes. And bring a change of clothes with you.”
“Sure. But…” I trailed off, she had hung up. So I hurried and packed a small duffle bag with clothes and some money. I heard a honk outside. Then I looked out my window, there was the police car waiting for me. Another honk. I rushed out the door and into what seemed at the time to be a giant mist of violent confusion.
Chapter 2:
The policeman who was driving said nothing the whole fifteen minute drive to the hospital. He looked very solemn and large. He reminded me of some sort of giant like the ones I had read about in fantasy books – reading, that was one of the many ways I escaped reality if I needed to – I looked out the foggy window with bewildered eyes as we pulled up to the Central Hospital. Then for the first time the policeman spoke.
“Here we are. You can just go right up to the third floor. I already informed the nurses that you were coming.” He spoke in a low but friendly and auspicious voice. I then replied
“O.K. thank you.” He just grunted in return and drove away right after I got out.
As I walked shakily up to the broad, clear, emergency room doors I started to wonder if my mom would live. The thought made me shudder.
As I plundered through the automatic doors and took in the deep whiff of antiseptic smell that covered the depressing hospital from top to bottom, I felt tears welling at the bottom of my eyes. I hoped I would not cry, because then I would seem weak, and my blotchy mascara would run down my face like little black waterfalls full of unhappiness. I did not want that. So I kept my tears in. The front desk woman immediately knew who I was and pointed me in the right direction. I stopped dead in my tracks at the door to the room where they keep all the poor souls left in “serious condition”.
I cautiously took one small, slow step at a time as I walked through the white swinging doors. Again the nurses seemed to know who I was. One of them with rosie cheeks and pale brown hair told me my mom was in room seventeen. I found it. I walked in, thinking that I would be prepared for what I was going to see. But I was not prepared. Behind the glass door, behind the soft curtain there was Mom. Tons of nurses kept coming in and out checking on her. She had scratches on her face, she had her leg up in a sling with the thickest cast I had ever seen over her entire right leg, her left shoulder blade was bleeding, and her face seemed to be swollen. I tried to talk to her.
“Mom? Mom? Hello? Can you hear me?” But there was no reply. A nurse told me that she was in a temporary coma, but that it was like she was half awake. I tried again, this time I leaned over her to look into her sleepy, swollen eyes.
“mom, are you there? Can you hear me?!” She blinked then said my name.
“Arianna?”
“yes, mom.” Then she passed out, thrown back into deep sleep, maybe she recognized my eyes. She had so often told me that my eyes were the most unusual and beautiful eyes she had ever seen. My eyes were purple. But not just any purple. They were a soft lavender color, and if you looked into them they would pierce your heart as if I had been reading your soul.
Suddenly Ryan (Mom’s boyfriend) was behind me.
“hi, where did you come from?” I stuttered, and then I saw that he had a patch of gauze on his arm and a large gash on his forehead. “Oh, sorry. Are you okay?”
He then replied “yes.” He trailed off then continued “I talked to her doctor. It seems her condition is even worse than it looks. I called one of your old friends; you’re going to stay with skylar and his mother for about a week.”
“But how will I get to skylar's house?” I asked.
“He is on his way to pick you up right now.” After that everything was just quiet I went out to the front of the hospital to wait for my ride. Skylar was one of my best friends but I hadn’t talked to him in about three months. I missed him too. I had always had a crush on him or loved him more or less. But I never told him. This would be something to brighten my life a little. Suddenly I realized that Vermillion (my pet fox, tamed, and with unusual floppy ears) was in my bag. He climbed on my shoulder. I called Skylar on my track phone.
“Are you almost here?”
“Yes” he said as his car pulled up right in front of me. “Hop in! And I’m sorry about your mom.” he said. I got in.
Once we got to his house everything was very quiet he wasn’t home most of the time – school (I was homeschooled) - , and I did not get a phone call from the hospital for a week. Until….
“hello?” I answered my phone to hear ryans voice. He sounded
excited.
“Guess what?! Your Mom is going to be okay! She recovered really fast in only a week’s time!”
“Oh My God! I’ll be there right away!” I closed my phone. I grabbed Skylar’s keys and jumped in the car. I did not have a driving license yet but I knew how to drive. I was so excited I didn’t have time to think about the danger in that though.
Chapter 3: Another accident, with a resolution
I was driving as fast as I could to get there, when I passed through a stop sign and ran right into another car. Everything went dim, black as the midnight sky without stars.
Then I woke up to my mom and Skylar standing over me. My mom was fine. Apparently she had a premature c-section and had her baby. It was named Lavender Borealis Piscinelli. Skylar was not mad about the car. He saw my eyes flutter open, he bent down and he hugged me, his light brown hair hung down in his face like usual. My mom hugged me too. And I knew that everything would be alright.
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