Leticia [The ADAMS Family]

05

The medical information written below is not entirely accurate. It is purely written for dramatic purposes only.

THE RIDE home is eerily silent.

The only sound that can be heard is the hooting from the cars around us and the tires gliding along the road.

For the first time, my mind is blank. It feels like there's a misty fog and I can't think nor visualize anything. I feel like my spirit has been disconnected from my soul but I would be brought back to reality whenever my mother would gently squeeze my hand.

The distance between the hospital and our home isn't far but the ride is becoming unbearable. My lungs feel constricted and without thinking, the words fly out of my mouth.

"Stop the car,"

"Leticia?" My mum asks, worry laced in her voice but I don't think much about it.

"I said, stop the car!" I scream, and my driver harshly steps on the brakes, making our bodies fly forwards but the seatbelts do their jobs and bring us back to our seats without casualties.

I hastily unfasten my seatbelt and jump out of the car, heaving as if I had run a four hundred metre marathon. My knees buckle and I fall on them to the ground as I tightly put my hand over my heart. The cold breeze slaps me in the face but I'm too preoccupied with my feelings to dwell on it.

"Leticia!" My mother screams, following after me and soon, I feel her arms around me. But when they do, my eyesight becomes blurry and tears cascade down my cheeks like a river flowing down a stream with no control.

I beat my heart as I heaved loudly, bawling my eyes like a little kid whose lollipop had been snatched away—not caring about the people who passed by, whispering to themselves.

"Leticia," Mum whispers in my hair.

But I don't stop. All the hurt I've felt deep inside has bubbled up and I can't control it. As I cry, my headache worsens each time—pounding as if someone keeps hitting me with a sledgehammer.

"Mister Jo!" My mum screams behind me. "Mister Jo!"

"Yes, ma'am!" My driver answers, coming closer to us.

"Bring me my phone!" She shouts and I hear his footsteps receding before they come back. "Hello?...Yes, I'm so sorry to bother you...I'm calling because I need your help and I don't know who else to call...Yes...

I don't hear the rest since my head is spinning but I'm desperate to ask who she's calling.

My eyes stare at the concrete floor below me as my hold on my mother loosens. My cries have gone down but I sniffle here and there still wallowing in my self-pity.

"Miss Adams!" A male's voice shouts.

"Here!" My mother shouts back, and I hear heavy footsteps approach me.