Daddy's Girl

Chapter 7

Saturday I woke up, and I stared at the blank ceiling. The paint was perfectly coated, not a dent in sight. It looked perfect, but I knew it wasn't.

Years ago I had smashed my clock against the wall, and it formed a crack. The crack ran up the whole side of the wall. We got it fixed, of course, but if you looked really closely, and squinted, you could see a tiny grey line, and follow it all the way up to the white ceiling. It had been painted over three times, and yet the line remained. Perfect, unless you look at it closely. Sound like anyone we know??

I turned onto my side. What did it matter what people thought of me? I thought. But I knew I was just trying to convince myself, and failing miserably.

A soft knock came from the doorway.

"Come in." I mumbled.

My mother walked in, and seated herself at the edge of my bed. She looked around my room uncomfortably. She barely ever came in here.

"You ready?"

I sat up. "Do I look like I am?" I snapped. I had bed head. And I was in my pjs. This lady was crazy.

"Well, no, but, we've got to be there by ten." I glanced at the alarm clock by my bed. Nine sixteen.

"Ok. Im up." I got off the bed and started to walk away.

"Oh, and hon,-"

"I've got to get ready.." I cut her off, and disappeared into my closet.

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The ride to the hospital was silent. My mom kept throwing nervous glances in my direction when she thought I wasn't looking. Her mouth went open, closed, like she was going to say something, and decided against it.

I ignored it all.

We pulled in to the parking lot, and we got out our doors, and shut them behind us. Well, I think I slammed mine.

She signed in at the front desk, and I took a seat. As I looked around, I studied it all. Everything was white. Except for the people I mean. White walls, white desks, white uniforms, white chairs, white coffee tables, you get the point. It gave off a weird feeling, and I squirmed in my seat. The other people looked just as uncomfortable as I did. There were old men, young ladies, babies, and toddlers clinging to their mother's arms. I looked for my mom, and found her seated across from me, reading a House Beautiful magazine.

"Anyone sitting here?" A timid voice said from my left. I turned and looked at a girl about my age, gesturing to the seat next to me. I shook my head, and she took a seat. She sat carefully, like the chair was two hundred degrees and she didn't want to burn herself.

"Hi. I'm Kerri." She said.

"I'm Avery." I replied.

She looked at me, and I stared forward. She put her hands in her lap, staring at them, and played with the tips of her fingers.

"What are you doing here?" she asked without looking up.

"Um, visiting somebody." I said. "You?"

She stopped fiddling with her fingers, and placed her hands on top of each other. I got no answer.

The lady up front called us, and I got up.

"Nice meeting you." Kerri said.

I nodded, and walked away.

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She led us down a hallway, brightly lit. She stopped at a door near the end of the hall, and told us we had fifteen minutes each. We both took this silently.

She led my mother inside, and shut the door, leaving me behind.

I took a seat, and sat still. For fifteen minutes, I did nothing. When my mother walked out again, she had tears in her eyes.

The nurse introduced herself as Emory, and led me inside, just as she did to my mother.

The room was separated by a curtain, causing the person on the other side to be hidden from whoever had just walked in.

My eyes adjusted, and it took some more time to adjust to what I saw.

My father looked like a bruised cucumber.

Have you ever seen those cartoons, where the character gets hurt, and they're wrapped in bandages so it looks like a mummy?

That's what I saw. His head was wrapped completely in bandages, except his eyes and mouth and nose. His face was red, and had stitches scattered all over it. There was a tube from his nose, running up all the way into a baggie with some kind of liquid in it, connected to a beeping machine.

His fingers were atleast twice the size they normally were, and they were poofy and red.

I sat down, because my knees were getting weak. I just now realized how bad off my father was.

I spent my fifteen minutes, sitting and staring, sometimes talking to him, doubting he could hear me, and at the end, right before I left, I prayed.

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Ok you guys! No one commented on the last part whether they liked it or not!! I only wrote this because I had time. Pleasepleaseplease! Vote, Comment, and Fan!