The Mystery Fire

Chapture one

Chapter One: News

A few days pass, and I anxiously waited to hear word from the hospital on Mom's condition.
After a week or so, the house phone rang. Before anyone could get to it, I dash from the kitchen (as I was in the middle of making a sandwich) and pick up the phone.
"Hello?" I say tentatively into the receiver.
"Hello. Is this Alex Martin?"
"Yes, this is her." My excitement died slightly at the speaker's tone of voice.
"It's about your mother."
My energy disappeared completely. No, this can't be happening, I think.
"She's brain dead, and usually people who are brain dead . . . . they don't wake up. They did all they could. I'm sorry."
"What do we have to do?" My stepdad says, and I guessed he was at another home phone, listening in somewhere in the house.
"There's nothing you can do. I'm sorry." The lady said sadly, hanging up.
The house was silent, and tears stung my eyes.
No . . .
I fell to my knees in the hallway, the phone clattering onto the floor. I stared blankly at the carpet as my tears fell down my face and onto my jeans, making dark circles. I hear someone open the front door and step inside, closing the door behind them. I stay as I am.
There's nothing you can do.
The words repeat in my head on a vicious loop.
Nothing you can do.
"Nothing I can do," I murmur to myself.
I curl up on the floor and sob silently, my body shaking and a lump forming in my throat. I let out a small noise, clutching my hands to my chest. I took in deep, shuddering breaths as I attempt to steady myself, though they quickly turned to heavy, body-wracking sobs that I couldn't control. I made no noise, a bad habit I had.
Nothing you can do.
Someone came down the stairs. Murmuring. A gasp. The door opening, closing; someone left.
I heard someone walk up behind me. They bent down beside me, scooping me up into their arms. They wrapped their arms around me, and their familiar scent told me it was my dad, crying with me.
"I'm sorry, baby." His voice cracked as I felt his tears fall onto my head.
I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed tightly, clinging to him. I sob, gasping for air, small noises escaping my lips. I scream silently, wishing Mom was here. I remember her laugh, her smiling at me, singing lullabies. I cried until I fell asleep in my father's arms, his tears falling on my shirt, in my hair, his silent sobs continuing on.