I Wish...

2

I opened my eyes. The ceiling was white and it smelled of antiseptics. There was a constant beep and I felt trapped; there was something around my arm, legs, and something else on on my face. My heart increased and so did the beeping. No one else was in the room. I passed out shortly after thinking I was dead.

I woke and passed out repeatedly. Until the moment I woke and Mrs. Rosa was beside me. She smiled gently while holding my hand. "Good morning, Rubicea." "H-...Mor-nin-," I croaked out. "Hungry?" she asked. "Y-es...," I said.

Mrs. Rosa left and came back with oatmeal. I ate silently and quickly. I felt tired after eating. I slept. I woke in what felt like minutes. "Rubicea?" I heard Mrs. Rosa say. "Mm...?" I groaned. "My goodness," she said as she squeezed my hand. "You'll be able to leave tomorrow, love."

I cleared my throat. "Water, dear?" Mrs. Rosa asked. "Yes, pl-ease," I whispered. She placed a straw in my mouth. I sipped and delicious refreshing water filled my mouth. I gulped greedily.

Mrs. Rosa told me it had been a month since I was hurt. She told me I had slept through many of my surgeries. I'd broken some ribs, my nose, both legs, and an arm. "Don't panic, hun," Mrs. Rosa comforted. "You'll get better in no time." I gave her a disbelieving look.

"But you'll have to stay in a wheelchair for a while. If... If your legs don't heal properly, you won't be able to run or-or walk," she continued, her voice cracking with emotion. "And my arm?" I questioned. "Your arm is going to be fine... for the most part...," she whispered, a gentle smile adorning her face.

Moments passed, and the clock struck three am. "Rubicea," she started, "You... want to be adopted, right?" I nodded, 'Did Mrs. Rosa want to be my mom? Was she going to adopt me? Was I actually WANTED?!'

She paused. "Do... Adopt..," Mrs. Rosa stumbled over her words. She looked at me, then glanced away. I heard a few mutters that sounded like, "You can do this" and "it's ok". She looked at me again, determination etched on her face. "Would you be willing to be my daughter?" she asked.

I stared at her, was she serious? Mrs. Rosa never joked around about adoption. Not that I know of, at least. "Is... that a no?" she asked with a sad smile on her face. She didn't look like she was lying or joking. I opened my mouth to speak, she looked at me with hope in her eyes.

"I'd love for you to be my mom," I started, "but, are you sure you want me?" She vigorously nodded. I smiled, 'She wanted me, someone wanted me. After two years worth of interviews at the orphanage, someone wanted me.'

"Thank you, Mrs. Rosa," I smiled. "Please, call me 'mom'," she whispered. I nodded slowly and sleepily. "Goodnight, mommy," I murmured.

~~⊙ω⊙~~

When I woke up the next day, I was alone in the room. I wondered where Mrs. Rosa, now my mother, was. I glanced at the clock, it was mid day. Today, I would go home. I would leave the smell of hospital behind. The wires and tubes attached to me would be gone, the white walls gone.

I saw the door open in the corner of my eye. My new mom walked in accompanied by a two men, one of which was carrying a folded wheelchair. "Rubicea," the man in a white coat said. I looked their way, "Yes?" He smiled and his eyes crinkled at the edges, "You're discharged from the hospital." I gave a small smile, I didn't know this man.

He came closer, I panicked. The rhythm of the constant beeping picked up, "Momma!" Mrs. Rosa practically ran to my side. "It's OK, baby girl," she said as she stroked my hair. "But-," I started, before she shushed me. The strange man in a white coat started taking away the tubes in my body.

After all the tubes and wires were taken away, he checked something off a clipboard I hadn't seen. The mask on my face was taken off and my bandages were replaced. The other man that was carrying the wheelchair, now leaning against the wall, came over and hugged my mom.

"Who is he?" I whispered to Mrs. Rosa. "He's my husband, so that makes him your dad," she responded. I looked at him and noticed he looked nervous. "My dad," I repeated, my eyes wide. He gave a small smile,"Hi, darlin'." His accent was strange, country-like almost. "Hi, poppa," I said with a wide grin in response.

The doctor, my momma corrected, checked off lots of things on his clipboard. Finally. He nodded with finality and left. My dad unfolded the chair and glanced at me. "I need to carry you now, Rubicea. Is that ok?" he asked. I nodded, if momma trusted him it was ok.

After picking me up and checking me out of the hospital, my dad put me in the back seat of a black truck. He and my mom got in the front seats, and soon we were pulling out of the hospital parking lot.