"Wake up!" someone shouted in a far-away sounding voice.
"Oh my god, someone call 9-1-1!" someone else yelled.
"They should be here in approximately ten minutes," the second voice said in a calmer, almost relieved, voice.
"Wait--she's regaining consciousness!" the first person said in a more normal sounding voice.
"Wha--what happened!" I shouted after I regained the capability to speak.
"Oh thank god," the first person that spoke--Molly, I now remember--cried as she tackled me in a bear hug. Soon, the second person--Zeke, my other best friend--joined our crying and hugging.
That's when I heard the sirens. "You guys actually called 9-1-1?!" I shouted, my asthma starting to kick in again.
"Well...yeah, you just kind of collapsed and we didn't know what to do," Zeke mumbled, eyes not budging from his feet.
"Zeke," I whispered sympathetically, "I'm not mad, really. Thank you for looking out for me, both of you." I looked up at Molly, almost forgetting she was there; She tends to blend in, That's why we call her "camielan". "Um...where are we?" I asked looking around into an undesirable place to be alone.
"We're in the crypt at the abandoned ch-," Molly started saying.
The three of us snapped our heads up to the small trap door to the small, creepy room when we heard a loud knock coming from it. Well, we thought it was a knock until an axe came through the door. I jumped in surprise and reached for Zeke's hand until his had finally found mine. Molly whimpered, grabbing my free hand in her shaking one.
"This is Colonial Stakes," stated a tall, muscular man, probably three times as old as my sixteen-years of age, "I received a call about a person collapsing and remaining unconscious?"
"Um, yeah, but I'm fine now, I have low blood sugar and I haven't eaten today,so...," I managed to mumble.
"I see," Colonial Stakes grunted, "well, let me help you kids out of here and make sure you get some food in your system."
"Oh, no, really I'm fine. We can get along by ourselves, but thank you, sir," I quickly replied. I've never been a fan of berserk men helping me out of a church basement.
"Nonsense! Besides, we should get you to a doctor to get your head checked out," Stokes said, pointing his flashlight to my face.
"But I'm-," I started. I reached up and felt my forehead; when I brought my hand down, all I could see was blood.
"Oh my god," Zeke said, "I didn't even see that. I saw you fall, but..."
"You'll be fine. You'll just need some antiseptic since this floor is so dirty, and maybe a few stitches."
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The "Colonel" chauffeured us to the hospital, despite my protests. when we got to the ER and quickly explained my situation to the doctor, he stitched my head up.
"now, I hope you realize that you'll have to come in bimonthly because of your low blood-sugar," the nurse informed me after filling out what seemed to be a million pages of paperwork.
"yes," I sighed. "I don't know why, I can't even drive myself to the hospital," I muttered.
"I'm sure your friends will help you, or we can work out some sort of arrangement with your parents if they work," the oh-so-helpful nurse stated with a smile.
"urm," I replied, uncomfortable," my parents died a few years ago..."
"oh!" the nurse immediately said, "well, I'm sure Colonel Stakes can drive you."
"well ill LOVE that," I replied sarcastically.
"let's go, kids," the Colonel said with a sigh.
there was something suspicious about the Colonel. I don't know what, but i doubt he has any correlation to the army, despite his ''rank.'' Stakes--I decided to call him that since i doubt hes really a colonel and i don't know his first name--dropped us off at Molly's parents house, where I spend most of my time. we said our thank yous and goodbyes to Stokes and when he finally left, I decided to tell Molly and Zeke about my suspicions.
"I'm not usually one to show much criticism, but that ''Colonel'' is a phony," I stated, seemingly out of nowhere to my two friends.
"He seemed nice enough--," Molly responded in a soft voice, only to be cut off by Zeke.
"But I don't think you should let him drive you to the hospital--alone especially."
While we collaborated upon a schedule for who would drive me to and from the hospital, I decided it was time to face my fear of driving and get a license.
-------------------------------------------------------later that day--------------------------------------------------------------
after I told Zeke and Molly about my plan to get a drivers licence, we decided to order a pizza and watch a scary movie on Netflix called "Mama." Zeke and I weren't scared, but oh boy, Molly was!
"Don't open the closet, don't open the--oh thank--AHHH!" she alternatively whispered and yelled at the TV. I just laughed and Zeke looked like he was trying not to cry or pee his pants from laughing at Molly's reaction to this movie.
"guys?" Zeke asked, looking pale and sick, "I don't feel so--." he cut himself off by running to the bathroom and puking in the toilet.
"well this is just great!" Molly threw her arms up in exasperation, "so much for hanging out."
"what do you mean?" i asked, "Zeke will feel better soon, he did eat over half of the pizza by himself."
"so, its not contagious?" Molly asked skeptically, glancing at the closed bathroom door.
"no," i confirmed with a chuckle, "unless seeing people who just puked makes you sick."
"oh, OK," Molly said, obviously relieved, "should we do out homework, we have a language arts test tomorrow."
"ugh!" I slumped down on Molly's couch. you see, i have very bad grammar and a horrible memory, i still don't know the difference between a comma and an apostrophe! but i suppose i should at least study, my future is bankrupt anyways, but id at least like to know i tried.
