Eccedentesiast

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Athazagoraphobia- The fear of forgetting, being forgotten or ignored, or being replaced.

•••

"What?!" I jump off the bed and the boys still stare at me confused by my sudden outrage. Zion doesn't like talking about Mom. I've hardly heard him talk about her after she left. Hearing the panic in his voice I know it's not something good and I worry about what it is. "What about her?"

"I'll explain on the way. Just please..." Zion pauses, surprisingly getting choked up. "Just please hurry out here. I'm in the driveway."

I quickly hang up without saying goodbye. Grabbing my book along with my other things, I stuff it all into my backpack before swinging the bag over my shoulders. I make a beeline to the door but I'm stopped by Kashton.

"Woah, slow down. What's going on?"

"I-I don't know," Shaking my head, I remove the hand that he placed on my shoulder. "I'm sorry for bailing but I got to go. Can you guys finish the project without me?"

"Of course Sugar... but is everything okay?"

"I think so. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Cutting our goodbyes short. I rush out the door without a reply.

•••

I didn't know what I wanted to do. Half of me wants to rush inside and go see Mom but the other wants to run far, far away from here. Go hide somewhere and never leave. But I couldn't do either. I was frozen in place, unable to move. Zion seems to be in the same position.

Panic begins to rise up my chest. I was afraid of what was going to happen when we walked into that hospital. "Come on. Let's get this over with," Zion mutters stepping out of the car and it takes me a few seconds to do the same.

We walk quietly inside, both of us thinking of the worse as we enter the sorrowful hospital. I hate the hospital. The strong smell of citrus doesn't help.

I look over at the two families in the waiting room. One is a big group, most of them are asleep but a few of them stare off into space, thoughts running through their minds.

The other group is a group of three, from the looks of it it's a mom, a dad, and a son. The dad hugs the mom as she cries, a sad sound of agony leaves her lips. The boy looks mad on the other hand. His face is a deep shed of red, like he's very embarrassed. But instead this is anger. His fists are curled and he looks around, looking for something to hit. I look away, feeling like I'm invading the families.

Taking a left we walk up to the receptionist. Her ginger hair falls down in front of her face almost like a curtain, as she writes something down on a piece of paper. We stand there for a second before Zion clears his throat, gaining her attention.

She looks up bewildered, her cheeks heat up and her green eyes hold an apologetic look. "Sorry about that," she moves a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "What can I do for y'all?"

"Could you tell us what room Kimberly Jones is in?"

"Um I have a Kimberly Jones Davis, is that her?"

Both our heads snap to her quickly, I'm surprised one of us didn't get whiplash. So Mom did get remarried. "Y-yeah that's her," I speak timidly.