My nightmare

Chapter 1

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"Hello?  Dad?" I yelled loudly, but there was still no answer. I made my way to the kitchen, but it was empty. Perhaps he had already left for work as usual, I pondered, but why was the front door left open? I had to be a little more cautious in my questioning.

I always make sure to keep the entrance door closed, even when I'm feeling lazy. My dad might be inside taking a nap, as he loves to do that in the afternoons. Sleeping is something I and my father excel at. I don't have a problem with sleeping all day. I headed to my dad's room to see how he was doing, and when I reached his door, I knocked softly to avoid startling him, but still let him know that I was there.

After continuously knocking for two minutes without a response, I decided to forcefully enter to check on him. My frustration grew as I pushed the door open, wondering how he could be sleeping so soundly with no regard for his responsibilities. However, my shock and fear set in when I saw my father lying on the floor with blood coming from his mouth. Frozen in place, I tried to convince myself that my dad was at work and that what I was seeing couldn't be real. He loves me, he wouldn't make my life miserable, right?

The only person who cares about me is dying, and I am standing there helplessly, watching my only family with tears streaming down my face. Ever since my mom left us, it has been disheartening to see my only family in pain without any assistance.

I descended the stairs hastily, feeling a deep sense of sorrow in my heart. With urgency, I dialed the emergency number 911. After a few moments, a voice on the other end spoke about 911, but in my distressed state, I was unable to fully comprehend her words as her energy did not align with mine. I was overwhelmed by sorrow and unable to articulate my thoughts clearly. While I may not excel in all areas, I possess intelligence and fluency in communication. Currently, I am emotionally exhausted.

    "I am Harley Davidson. I implore you to save my father!" I sobbed desperately. She seemed about to respond when the call abruptly ended.

I hurried to my father's side, hoping against hope that he would awaken, or perhaps that he was merely playing a prank on me. Upon entering his room, I noticed his phone ringing and made a dash for it, only to find "Mr. Wilson" displayed on the caller ID.

Mr. Wilson is my father's closest friend, with whom he shared a lifetime of memories. He resides in New York, and they often reminisce about their shared past, including fishing trips and other childhood tales that I typically try to avoid. I recall visiting his home just once, following my mother's passing, when my father and I attended a dinner hosted by Mrs. Wilson. It was a difficult period for our family at the time.

After mom's death, dad almost have a heart attack, but with his friends company everything was a bite light for him.  when Mrs willson invited us for dinner, dad was so existed about it so, I had to tag along to cheer him up. After  mom's death, despite the fact that I was mourning for my mother, I still had to be a good daughter to cheer him up.

I am reluctantly reaching out for assistance, as I am experiencing a great fear that my loved one may be in danger. He had assured me that he would never cause me pain and promised to always protect me as my guardian angel. However, his current actions are not aligning with my expectations of him. I long for him to smile at me as he always has, as I hold deep affection for him.

Reluctantly, I press the "receive" button and I am greeted by Mr. Wilson's voice as he answers the call.
"Hello, can you please assist me? It is my father," I manage to say through tears, expressing my immense love for him.
"What is happening with your father?" Mr. Wilson responds with concern evident in his voice.
"My father is unresponsive. I implore you, please, convey to him my love and urge him to awaken," I cry out, unable to contain my emotions. The sound of the approaching ambulance siren interrupts my attempt to say more.

   

I placed the phone gently on the bed before hurrying downstairs to guide the paramedics inside. A team of medical professionals entered and I showed them where my father lay motionless. My heart was heavy with sorrow and anguish. They lifted him onto a stretcher and fitted him with an oxygen mask.

I accompanied them in the ambulance as we made our way to the hospital. The journey felt interminable as the paramedics worked tirelessly on my father while I wept and prayed for his survival.

Upon arriving at the hospital after what felt like an eternity, my father was rushed to the emergency room. Despite my protests to stay by his side, I was asked to wait outside.

Seated quietly, I waited anxiously for updates from the doctor as tears clouded my vision. Lost in thought, I was startled when someone sat down beside me. "Harley, I am deeply sorry for what you are going through with your father. You should not have to endure this at such a young age," mrs Wilson said with compassion. I struggled to respond as emotions overwhelmed me.

I couldn't stop crying and couldn't say anything. Mrs Wilson is truly wonderful woman. The last time I went to their house, she was very nice and free with me. They are rumors that they have a son, and Mrs Wilson has always wanted a daughter.

I was deep in thought when the doctor came in. I hurriedly stood up to ask him a question, but he offered to speak to mr Wilson.