Little Lynch

Hospital

Ross got me out of the car and we raced inside. Everyone else stayed home, in case something happened. I don't know what would happen, we were just away for about three weeks and nothing happened then, but they'll do what they want to do. Riker went to the desk to tell them what had happened, and Ross sat down with me. It was only about 11:00, but jet lag was really catching up to me, and I was bored. I ended up falling asleep waiting for the doctor to come. It was better than sitting there, bored and in pain.

I woke up, but didn't open my eyes, or stir or anything. I was just awake. I felt that I was upright, and I knew I was still being held by Ross. He started walking, and I realised the doctor had finally come. It really wasn't finally, I could've been sleeping for five minutes for all I know. But anyways, I knew I was in for a long day. The second thing I noticed after I noticed where I was and all that, was that still no one had done anything about my ankle. It hurt so bad, but hopefully it would be fixed soon! That's basically what kept me going the whole day, the fact that I would go to bed the in a few hours and it wouldn't hurt anymore.

We walked for a bit and stopped. I opened my eyes as Ross set me on the bed in the little area we were. It was like a room, but the walls were made of drapes. They must have had some very nice AC units because I was freezing, even in August. The doctor asked me some questions, like my name, age, and what had happened, and like probably every single other child in the world, I turned to the adult in the room who knew all the information. Which in my case was Riker.

"Rosannah Lynch."

"She is 10 years old."

"Playing American football, her brother fall on top of her."

"She's allergic to pineapple and penicillin."

"No, this never happened before."

Of course, I could answer all the questions he asked. Just, kids never seem to do that. After 60,000 years of answering questions (exaggerating, obviously) he looked at my ankle.

"Looks like it's broken. We are going to do a quick x-ray to make sure it's not going to need any surgery or anything. Then we can numb it and we'll put a plaster on. Got it?" I nodded. The doctor left the room, saying he would be back in a minute, and we all sat in silence. Soon, Ross broke it.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked. I nodded.

"Yeah, like crazy. Hope the x-ray or whatever doesn't hurt."

"I'm sure it won't," Riker assured.

"Yeah, I don't think so either." I said, but I was lying. I thought it would hurt so bad. "Didn't you break your arm once, Ross?"

"Yeah."

"Did it hurt?"

"Well, breaking it did, of course. But no, the x-ray didn't hurt or anything."

"Oh. Good." The doctor, Doctor Wren, walked back into the room-thingy. Ross came and sat next to me. It's like he can read minds!

"I'm scared," I whispered.

"You'll be fine, Monkey. You're our bravest one." I smiled, the nickname hadn't been used for a least 4 years. Ross picked me up and Dr. Wren led us down a long hallway. Riker stayed behind, Ross wasn't supposed to come either but I couldn't walk and didn't want to have a wheelchair. We walked inside this strange, dark room. The doctor said to put me onto the bed-table thing, so he did. Then, he had to leave.

"Do a good job. See ya soon." He used to tell me that before they went on tour when I was younger. I know, the feels. What was he trying to do?! It always made me feel better, because I know he'll be back soon, and be fine. I always replied