The Miracle

Chapter One

As I woke up early Monday morning, I wiped the dew from my window. Shivers ran up my spine as I slowly emerged from my warm, comfortable bed. I quickly slipped on my slippers and walked downstairs to my kitchen. There stood mom, making eggs and bacon before school as she did every day for me. Franklyn, my little brother, raced around her feet and attacked her with his toy airplane. She stared laughing, picked him up, and swung him in circles a few times before sending him running away in the other direction. Father then emerged from the bathroom, dressed all fancy for work, and asked "Olive, does my cologne smell too strong". Franklyn ran up and attacked him next. Father, being the complete goofball of the family, pretended to be a dinosaur and tickled him until Franklyn started to cry. I had always thought I had a perfect family, but later that day I was proved completely wrong.

On his way home from work, father was hit by an oncoming drunk big-rig driver. Fortunately, though he didn't die on impact with the truck. He was severely hurt and minutes later went into shock. When he got to the hospital he was immediately hooked up to an automatic breathing machine and ended with him in a coma. I didn't hear about this until fifth period, when I was called up to the office and greeted by the principle, my mom, and Franklyn. As they spoke my head started swimming, I wasn't able to perceive anything that they were saying. A moment later, I fainted. When I was conscious again we went straight to the hospital to meet with his doctor and to see him. When we got there we were directed to a small curtained room where father was, only to find him there, with a tube down his throat, and just laying there motionless. Mom started to cry. Franklyn didn't really know what was going on, so he just sat with mom on the floor. The doctor walked up "hello, my name is Dr. McKinley, if you would follow me to my office I can explain his situation" he said to us. Mom stood up, adjusted herself and told us to do what he had said.

When we got to his office, Franklyn sat on moms lap. "I am going to tell you straight up his condition, it's not good. When he got here, we diagnosed that he had 7 broken bones, 8 bruised ribs, and a dislocated knee. We were able to place the broken bones and dislocation into casts and a splint, but the ribs will have to heal on their own" said Dr. McKinley. Mom sat there as still as father was. The doctor also said the coma won't be permanent, but it will last for some time, his estimation was 4 months to a year. He offered therapy to us for the traumatic situation we were in. Mom said she would have to consider it with us later. We went straight home; there was no excitement in the car this time, only sorrow. When we got to the house Franklyn ran straight over to the couch, mom went to the kitchen to fix him a snack, and I went up to my room. I just sat there, on my bed, going back over what had happened at the hospital. I knew what was going on, but I convinced myself otherwise. All of a sudden, my phone buzzed. It was Pat, wondering what had happened in fifth period. I couldn't tell him, not yet anyways. So I just made up a lame excuse, doctors. I knew he would eventually need to know, but I couldn't just let the river of words cascade out of my mouth. So I just laid there on my bed, and I cried. Eventually I cried myself to sleep because I woke up the next morning in my bed.

Mom allowed me to be out of school for only one day, more would cause me to fall behind on homework and school work. Normally a day goes by quickly, but today felt like a year. Everyone was really quiet, well except for Franklyn; he is too young to understand. As it came upon noon, mom asked us if we were hungry. Franklyn said he was he always is hungry these days. I was not, and I told her that by getting up and going up to my room. Franklyn rushed into the kitchen to wait for mom to get his lunch ready. Meanwhile, I knew the only way to escape the misery was to blast my music. Usually when I do this mom will either let me get my anger out or try to comfort me. Although lately, she had just given up on the whole "comforting theory" with me. This time she just lets me express my anger. Next thing I knew, mom came into my room, first telling me that dinner was ready then she told me that every Wednesday I had therapy at the hospital from 5:30-7 pm. I just agreed and crawled down to the table, which was awaiting me with a shinning platter of slop. Mom made sure to put on a smile for Franklyn at the dinner table. His next question hit me liked a brick wall. Franklyn asked "where's daddy, mama?" her face went from partially smiling to completely flushed; she didn't know how to answer so she looked at me for help. I lied and said he had to go on a sudden business trip. Mom started to get her color back and looked at Franklyn for his okay, which he gave in a bright cheery smile. I ate my dinner and went straight to bed. I knew that the hell hole called school had to be faced at some point, but the question was how. How was he going to wake up? How would everyone treat me at school? How will I ever get back to the old me? All questions I asked myself, but still I had no answer for. Tuesday came sooner than expected for me. I was quiet all day, but I knew that once Pat saw me, he would know something was up. My teachers all got an email from my mom explaining the situation, but I told them all that I did not want the sympathy act from any of them. Except for one, my English teacher, Mr. Finnegan. By far, he was my favorite teacher and the one who helped me realize how much I can actually succeed in class. The only thing I did not realize about him is how much I was his favorite student. He called me up to his desk one day after class, I did not know why, but I was nervous.