A Perfect Mistake

Chapter 25

Worried halfway to death, I kneel down on the floor, hovering over my unconscious mom.

"Mom, Mom?!" I holler, shaking Mom's shoulders. "Wake up!"

Mitchell, who is now carrying Lorraine (she finally stops crying), says worriedly: "She's not gonna die, right?"

I snap at him: "I don't know!"

I check Mom for symptoms of being alive. Her heart is still beating, but very slowly, her heart rate is fading away. She is barely breathing. Mom's face is pale and her lips are a tint of blue.

Mom isn't gonna wake up. I just know it.

"I'm gonna call 911," I state.

"Okay, good idea," Mitchell says.

I pull out my iPhone, launch the Phone app, and quickly dial 911.

"911. How may we help you?" The operator says in a monotone voice.

"Hi, I'm Cassie Somers, my boyfriend and I just came home about 10 minutes ago, and we found my mom lying on the floor unconscious." I explain briskly. "Her heart rate is fading away and she's barely breathing. I tried to wake her up, but she just won't wake up." I stop to take a breath of air.

"Okay, ma'am, I'll send over an ambulance, and they will take your mom to the ER. What is your address?"

"1002 Eastside Drive."

"All righty, thank you, ma'am. The ambulance should be there in under 10 minutes. While you wait, make your mom comfortable and ready to go, all right?"

"All right. Thank you so much, sir." I hang up.

"An ambulance is coming and they will take Mom to the ER," I tell Mitchell, who has no idea what is going on.

"Okay, well, I assume that you're going with your mom, so I'll stay home with Lorraine." Mitchell replies.

"Okay, good, thanks. I'm supposed to get her ready and make her comfortable somehow." I say breathlessly, pointing to Mom.

Mitchell nods his head. "Gotcha. Well, Lorraine and I will go upstairs to the nursery and I'll tuck her in for nighty night time." His voice becomes all gushy as he looks at Lorraine.

Mitchell and Lorraine leaves the living room; I hear his footsteps run upstairs.

I sit Mom up and she remains in an upright position. I pick Mom up and sling her over my shoulder. I'm lucky that she is short and thin or else I wouldn't be able to move her upstairs to her bedroom.

Somehow, I make it to her bedroom. I turn on the lights, dig through her closet, and change Mom into an old Denver University sweatshirt, old black sweatpants, and old white sneakers. 

I wrap her favorite blanket around her body to keep her warm and secure.

I carry her back downstairs and wait by the front door for the ambulance to come.

A few minutes later, the ambulance comes. 2 strange men barge inside the house with a stretcher. 1 man picks up my Mom and sets her on the stretcher. The other man wheels the stretcher outside into the back of the ambulance.

"Do you want to accompany her?" 1 of the men asks me.

"Yes, definitely." I reply.

I get into the back of the ambulance and sit next to poor Mom lying in the stretcher.

What the hell happened to her?  I wonder sadly.

She was awake and perfectly fine when Mitchell and I left. And when we came back, she wasn't awake and she was very ill.

I pray to God, even though I don't do that very often:

"Please, God, please let Mom be okay and please let Mom stay alive."