I must have passed out eventually, because I woke up. It was quite dark, so I assumed it was late in the evening. But even though my room was dark, the hallways were alive with people and action. Gurneys going down the hall, people running. Calm nurses making the nightly medicine run... Suddenly, time started to slow down. It just kept getting slower and slower, until it stopped altogether. Something began to manifest before me, in the form of my father.
"Dalton!" He exclaimed, his glowing silohuette a silverish color. He didn't look like I did- like he'd been tossed around in the devil's den like a football. He looked like he did before the crash, before we ever even got into the fucking truck. It brought tears to my eyes.
"Dad.." I choked up, the tears spilling over my cheeks.
"I'm so sorry, Dalton," my father said, a pained look in his eyes. "I don't have much time. I just wanted to tell you that your siblings, mother and I love you. Don't forget about us, Dalton!"
"I love-" I started, but he was beginning to fade away. "N-no! Come back! Don't leave me!" I watched as his form slowly disintegrated into dust, pleading him not to go. Time started to move normally again.
"I'm sorry, Dalton."
YOU ARE READING
Through the Wringer
Подростковая литератураDalton Versailles' life was going great until the accident. He thought the Lanes foster family could be the worst of it, but it was the exact opposite. The worst was yet to come, even over the tragedy that befell his family.
