Fighting For Love

Chapter 2

                                                                "The Hospital"

           I was sitting in the waiting room while Dylan was in surgery. Wes had left to go get us some coffee and I was waiting for my mom to call me back. I had left a message on her phone. I was planning on paying for all of Dylan’s medical bills but I needed to let her know. The hospital had called Dylan’s mom and she said she was on her way.

            I had also called Ally to tell her to bring me a new shirt. This one had Dylan’s blood on it. I looked down at my hands as I waited for something to happen. I just wanted to know if he was ok. If he died because of me I would never forgive myself. As I was thinking I heard my phone go off.

            “Hello,” I answered.

            “Hannah? Are you ok? You’re message sounded like you were upset,” my mom’s worried voice called out to me.

            “I’m ok but something happened,” I said as I started crying again.

            “What happened,” she asked.

            “Me and Wes were out. I was getting harassed and a guy came to my rescue. But he got stabbed,” I told her.

            “The man that helped you got stabbed,” she asked with shock in her voice.

            “Yes. I just wanted to make sure it’s ok that I paid his medical bills,” I said.

            “Of course! He might have saved your life,” my mom said.

            “Thank you. I’m so scared. What if he dies,” I asked quietly.

            “Don’t think like that. Did you take him to your uncle,” she asked.

            “Yes. He’s in surgery right now,” I said.

            “Good. I have to go but you call me and let me know what happens,” she told me.

            “I will. Goodbye,” I said as I hung up.

            “Where is my son,” I heard a woman yell. I looked up and saw a woman that looked just like Dylan yelling at a nurse.

            “Ma’am,” I called out as I walked over to her.

            “What,” she said as she looked over at me.

            “Are you Dylan’s mom,” I asked.

            “Yes. Where is he,” she asked as she grabbed my hands.

            “He’s in surgery. My uncle is the surgeon,” I told her.

            “Oh,” she said as she sagged.

            “Come sit down,” I said as I pulled her over to a seat.

            “Is that blood on your shirt,” she asked me.