The window closed shut. A gush of New York air slipped into the small studio apartment. Shoving her freezing hands underneath her arms, Amelia raced over to her closet. Throwing the door open, she began searching.
"Come on, come on, where are you?"
Clothes littered the floor as Amelia rummaged through her closet, occasionally stopping to slide her falling glasses back onto the bridge of her nose. A bright light passed over the room; the helicopter. That means she doesn't have much time. Opening her backpack, Amelia hastily threw in a pair of scissors, a thick leather bound journal, her wallet, and keys. Racing out of her apartment building, she hailed a cab.
"Take me to the hospital."
The cab ride was quiet as the driver didn't try to make small talk, which make Amelia grateful because it meant she could do what she did best; think. She always wished for some excitement in her life. Something to break her away from her routine of work and sleep. But she didn't expect this. She had wanted a new love or maybe a project overseas.
That was want she wished for, not her father getting pushed against a wall by the police. Or her mother getting a surgery to stop the bleeding in her brain because she smashed a bottle on her head. A few hours ago she was in her apartment, working on her latest project.
And now, she was maneuvering through the dirty streets of New York City to reach her mother. Her caring, "always-do-the-right-thing" mother, she had tol--
"Ma'am," the driver questioned. "Are you alright? We are here, this was where you wanted to get off, right?"
Amelia blinked, feeling the moisture in her eyes. She quickly turned her head to the window and peered outside. The Mount Sinai Hospital came into her view.
"Yes, this is where I need to be, thank you," Amelia fished through her purse and handed the driver the money. Stepping into the hospital, her eyes wandered over the lobby. Finding the front desk, Amelia asked about her mother's room.
"Room D108, it's on the third floor. There should be staff waiting for you Ms.Rafael," the blonde lady smiled at her.
"Thank you." Amelia tried to keep a civilized pace as she rushed over to the room the lady described. Her brother, Rahul, stood outside, holding an ice pack to his swollen eye while answering the questions the cops fired at him.
"Where were you when this happened?"
"I was in my room, studying."
"So you were in the house, and yet you are saying you didn't see who hit her"
"I told you, I was studying. I locked my door an--Lia! You're finally here!"
Amelia ignore him instead focusing her attention on the red light above the door. "Is she still in surgery?"
"Yeah, the doctors are saying she lost a lot of blood. It's, it's going to hard Lia. Mom, she--" Rahul sobbed, his words dying down. Amelia hugged him, wrapping her hands around his broad figure.
"Ms. Rafael," one of the policemen said.
Turned her head towards him, Amelia gestured for him to continue.
"Ms.Rafael, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of your mother. Please get away from your brother and put your hands in the air. If you cooperate willingly, this will be painless. Otherwise, we will need to use force for your arrest".
The look of terror that Rahul gave her next was something Amelia could never forget.
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MEMORIES - A Literature Collection
Poésie"How can we hope to change the world if we are afraid to share our ideas?" #10 in truestories. ~~~ Original Poems and Short-Stories. All Information Is Subject to Copyright.
