Never Had Christmas √

CHAPTER 8

Lunging, I took in a deep breath, and I was stumbling and tripping. I glance back in time to see my dad's watch sail over the guardrail and drop into the crushing stampede of traffic below.

Heartbroken, I hardly could hear what the men were saying instead all I could see was blurry vision of them running toward my direction. With one hand I struggle to hold the edge of a freshly cut branch, with the other, I tried to pull my cellphone so I could call my parents.

At that moment I realize I had just embark on a dangerous journey. Twisting my arms across my body and spinning my feet under me. Off balance, teeter for an instant, and then, like a tree toppling in the forest, I started to fall.

For one terrible second I'm aware of the wind howling in my ears and the snow swirling past my eyes as I drop.
I can't even tell you what my head hit on the way down, or my legs.

With so much pain arising from my head and feet I peel one eye and see a blurry figures of a woman and a man across an unfamiliar room, a hollow, faraway voice assured me.

"You are gonna be fine."

I look around, trying to make sense of my surrounding as my head swims.

"Where am I?"

The woman walked closer to me. "You are in west side street warefell district."

"How'd I get here?" I croak, trying to stand up, but was stopped by the woman telling me I can't stand up for now cause my legs were badly injured.

"I need to go home, my dad must be really worried now, and I haven't given Katie her afternoon meal yet," I said through parched lips.

"Hmm...you need to rest," the man said.

"Its late now and you got quite a bump," the woman said, she reached up to adjust the ice bag that's pressing against the side of my head.

Once she mentioned it, I was aware of a throbbing on my scalp. My fingers find an egg shaped lump above my left ear.

"How'd that get there?" I wonder aloud.

"When we found you, it appeared that you had tripped and fallen against a set of stones and rolled down to the middle of the road." She explained.

"A photo beside you and a cellphone squashed into pieces, a stone on top of it, with a small bag," the man said.

"Oh my God my cellphone, how is my dad going to reach me now, I didn't told him I was going out," I said worried.

Then the door opened and then shut. "Dad is she alright," a voice called from the other room. As a short and skinny girl walked into the room.

"She is fine," the woman replied.

"Hi, Shirley," the girl said with a smile.

And I wonder. "How did you know my name?"

"It was written over here," another voice replied I look toward the direction, a girl with her hair packed up in a ponytail walked in holding my short note book.

"Shirley Evans!" She whispered followed by a smile.