Here you guys go! Chapter #3 (≧ω≦) Enjoy! It took me so long to write this....
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The door squeaks open.
"Um, sorry if I'm interrupting anything," a male nurse says, looking for Dr. Moore. "I'm afraid the patient next door is in need of your assistance."
"Well...," grumbles Dr. Moore, obviously irritated by the fact that he had to postpone our meeting. "I'll be back in a jiffy." And Dr. Moore walks out briskly.
"Well, Savanah. Do you need me to get you anything?" asks the plump nurse.
I jump a bit, startled.
"Oh, I forgot you were there," I say. "Can I have a cup of water Ms..."
"Ms. Johnson," Ms. Johnson the nurse finishes. "And I'll get you some water."
As Ms. Johnson leaves, I let out a long sign. I unclench my muslces, not even realizing I was stiff. Finally some time to myself. As I look around the room I've been in for more than three days, my mind drifts to the particular flash back.
My dream, the picnic...it was all real!
I feel a pang in my stomach at the thought of those events. The same scene playing over and over in my head while I was sleeping in this hospital.
What will be of my family when we all heal and come out? Act like nothing has happened or rejoice we're all alive? I ponder on the last word.
Alive.
What if Kennith didn't make it; isn't alive?
I think back to the time when we first met.
I was nineteen, just starting college at The University of Chicago. It was morning, and my dad and I had just finished going through the college process of getting my dorm key and other papers. I was holding my two large suit cases filled with my entire closet, while my dad was struggling with the rest. I checked my slip of paper the director gave to me.
"These are the dorms," I sighed as I admire the modern looking building and continued walking.
"Let's hurry up honey," my dad says through clenched teeth. "Why did you have to bring so much stuff?"
"Don't you understand? Dad, all my stuff is essential. If I want to feel comfortable here I need everything," I replied putting emphasis on the everything.
As we entered the building, a cool breeze dried the sweat off our backs. I looked at my paper again and saw my room number: 216.
"This way daddy," I said over my back, guiding him as I turned down a hallway.
I took my key and unlocked my door. I guess my roommate had not come yet since the other side of the room was vacant and left untouched. My dad grunted as he set down my stuff in my room.
"Well this is spiffy," he said while checking the shared kitchen and living space.
I walked over to the window in the shared living space. I could see the beautiful campus and other students walking about. I suddenly got nervous about starting college; the side effects of meeting new people at a new school.
"Do you need any help Savanah? If not, I'm going to leave," my dad paced around.
I checked my dad's frail frame and decided that he needed to go back home, back to my mom who was probably struggling with paying the bills.
YOU ARE READING
Dealing with the Past
Ficção Adolescente[On Hold] After waking up in a hospital, Ms. Davenport, known as Savanah, learns why she's there in the first place. Savanah experiences a tragedy that breaks her heart. As time goes on, she deals with the past and learns to wait and hope.
