🎶Guess who's back, back again🎶. My apologies to everyone reading this story, with there being almost a year between these two chapters, a lot has been going on since the last update: with my family and I moving houses, just life in general, and honestly the biggest writers block and general lack of writing motivation that I've had in years. Hopefully, now that all that stuff has settled and my creative process flowing again, I can get back to updating this book, and with that out of the way, let's begin with "Delia Saves a Life".
*Gore (blood) and graphic injury warning*
Delia's P.O.V
14 years later
Whilst Mama and her fellow choir members are practicing their hymns for this coming church service, I thought it best if I'd lend a helping hand in cleaning the stained glass windows, to keep my hands busy and give me something to do until the nearest baby boutique opens. Evelyn is not far from reaching the end of her pregnancy, having just entered her third trimester, and I want to do my part in helping my big brother and his fiancé prepare for their first baby in any way I can.
If going to buy some diapers and other necessities in preparation for their newborn baby, which I have a strong gut feeling is gonna be a little girl, is what I can do to ease the weight off of my brother's shoulders and put at least some of Evelyn's mind at ease, then I am more than happy to play my part.
"How'd we sound, Delia?" Mama asks me for my opinion after the choir ended that particular hymn, most likely hoping for a positive response from her youngest child and only daughter.
"Like a heavenly host of angels, Mom," I reply from up on my perch, wet rag in hand, as I look away from the almost finished windows, nodding my head towards her when addressing her.
"Now, you know it's a sin to tell a lie, especially in this place," my mama, ever the humble and devout woman of God she is, called me out on a bluff, unknowingly inviting my next comment.
With a smirk on my face and a gleam in my eye, a look that Mama should know all too well after 25 years of being me and Rafe's mother. "Well, I never said they were singing angels." I flashed a smile, hoping to portray a lack of malice and nothing but a harmless joke between mother and daughter. Gasps of shock and subtle laughter leave Mama and her fellow choir members.
Suddenly, this loud crash is heard from the opposite direction, a boy screaming in pain, and people shouting in response. My head turns to outside, seeing people rush down the street, and I quickly clamber down my ladder, not even acknowledging my mother questioning the commotion. I bolt out from the church, running to assess whatever was going on, finding a boy no older than his mid-teens trapped underneath the broken axel of a car.
Hoping to relieve some of the pressure and weight that's laying on top of then teenager's leg, I quickly grab a wooden slab from nearby, jamming it underneath the barren axel to provide enough room for the others to drag him out by the tarp beneath the poor kid. As soon as I get a clear look at him, blood starts gushing out of his wounded thigh, with the man next to me stating that he'll phone for an ambulance.
"No, there's no time, they won't get here fast enough," I look around the street searching for means to get this kid to a hospital before he bleeds out. I suddenly remember Joshua's pick-up is available, informing the man that offered to call so that he'd run ahead and get the truck off of Joshua. As the teenage boy continues to lose blood, I rush to remove my belt from the loops of my slacks, proceeding to tie it painfully tight around the wound to act as a tourniquet, recalling some of the first-aid training that Evelyn taught me shortly after Rafe and Danny returned home.
***
Sitting in the back of Joshua's red truck, keeping pressure on the kid's leg as we race to Lynchburg Hospital, rushing the kid, now known as Gilbert, into an open space in the emergency room. "You're gonna be fine now. You're gonna be fine. You're in good hands." I proceed to comfort him, not once letting go of his hand, which he seemed to appreciate.
A surgeon joins us, checking over Gilbert's leg "What have we got here?" Notices the tourniquet on the kid's leg and the bleeding being held at bay. "It's a severed artery. Get some sutures." He calls out to nurses that are on standby, one quickly following his orders, whilst another follows his lead in maintaining pressure of Gilbert's thigh. He looks up from the injury and at me, questioning in his eyes as he notices that I'm the only person that came in with Gilbert and hasn't left his side yet. "Did you apply this tourniquet, young lady?"
Not wanting to keep him waiting with my response, I quickly answer "Yes, sir". He gives both me and the improvised tourniquet I applied a once over before proceeding with a congratulations and the news that I just might've saved not only Gilbert's leg, but his life.
Suddenly this feeling washes over me, as I take in my surroundings and see firsthand what the other nurses and doctors are doing whilst treating their patients. It is now that I realise that what I am currently feeling is a sense of pride the kind where you feel good about what you did, and the want to do this for the rest of your life. A realisation of purpose.
I want to help people. I want to protect people. I want to SAVE people.
And that's a wrap on chapter 2. Be free to comment on your opinions and suggestions as to how the rest of the story will pan out.
Samara Out. 👋🏼
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