Invisible Killer

Chapter 5

The gang passed a couple of blocks until they arrived at the Lawerence household. They sat in the truck and stared at the house. Everybody was ready except for Rachelle, who was having mixed feelings.
"I have a bad feelings about this," she hesitated with shakiness.
"Ray, it's going to be okay. She can't do anything to you if we're all here," Lyndsay tried ease Rachelle's anxiety.
"That's what I'm afraid of."
"Well...," began Troy as he shifted the gear. "Let's put this baby in park and get down to business." Him, Ryan, and Lyndsay unbuckled their seatbelts. They opened their doors and slid out of the vehicle, leaving Rachelle inside. "You guys have fun!" Rachelle wished them luck with sarcasm.
Troy rolled his eyes and shook his head. He opened the car door to the back behind the driver's seat. Rachelle screamed with shock when she saw Troy standing next to her. He gave her a devious grin and reached over her to unlatch her seatbelt. She quickly became more anxious when he released her seatbelt.
"You're coming with us...," Troy declared enviously with a raised eyebrow and a sly smile.
"Oh really?" Rachelle crossed her arms. "What makes you think that?"
Troy fiercely clenched Rachelle's forearm. "You got yourself into this mess, and you're going to get yourself out," he hissed with a grunt. Rachelle became silent. "Let's go!" he demanded. With a grip of Rachelle's arm, Troy pulled her out of the truck and dragged her up to the front door. When they approached the door, Lyndsay rand the doorbell. Rachelle began to sweat with nervousness. She attempted to run until Troy grabbed her around the waist.
"Where do you think you're going?" he smarted off.
Rachelle shakingly tried to break free. "Let me go, Troy," she hesitated while struggling to escape.
With seconds to spare, the front door opened with Leo standing in the doorway. He was beyond surprised to see his niece and friends on his doorstep. "Rachelle?" he muttered with shock.
Being shaky on her words, Rachelle smiled with guilt. "Hi Uncle Leo...," she greeted anxiously.
"Mr. Lawerence, may we ask your wife some questions?" asked Lyndsay with determination.
"Absolutely! Come on in," he insisted as he welcomed them into his home. Lyndsay and Ryan entered the front door.
"Move!" Troy grunted to Rachelle as he shoved her inside. Rachelle slowly walked inside, feeling the shame tingling in her bloodstreams.
The whole gang officially entered the entry way of the house. Rachelle was the last one to walk through the front door. Uncle Leo grabbed her by the arm and pulled her off to the side. "Rachelle? What's going on here?" he asked in a whisper.
"I tried to stop them, but they don't ever listen to me," answered Rachelle, still a little shaky on her words.
Troy approached the conversation, wrapped his arm around Rachelle's waist, and held her hand ever so softly. "Mr. Lawerence, it's nothing serious. We just have a couple of questions that we need answers to," he reported like a gentleman.
"Okay, that's fine," responded Leo. Troy smiled and thanked him. He grabbed Rachelle's hand and dragged her over to the couch. Without anymore questions, Uncle Leo closed the front door. The teens all approached the living room. Lyndsay and Ryan at sat down on either side of the couch. Troy dragged Rachelle over to the couch and threw her down next to Lyndsay.
"You're going to sit here and cooperate just like the rest of us," Troy gruntily whispered into Rachelle's ear. Rachelle looked up at Troy with pitiful, yet bashful, eyes as her pupils enlarged with shame.
Everybody was situated in the living room when a voice came from upstairs. "Leo? Who did you let in through the front door?" cried Bonnie as she stomped down the staircase. Hearing the grouchy voice of her aunt tormented Rachelle. She immediately freaked out and tried to leave until Troy threw her back down on the couch.
Bonnie entered the living room and approached her husband. She had fists up to her hips with anger. "Who's in my house?" she demanded.
Leo used his hand to direct his wife's attention to the couch that was behind her. She turned around and immediately became furious when she discovered Rachelle in her house. "You!" she grunted at her niece.
Sweating with anxiety, Rachelle panicked. She raised up a finger and said, "And that's my cue to leave..."
Rachelle tried to make another run for it but failed. Troy wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back down on the cushions. "I don't think so...," he hissed.
Bonnie then turned her attention back to her husband. "I thought that I told you not to ever let her inside our house ever again," she uttered with rage.
"Bonnie, they just have to ask you some questions," pleaded Leo.
"Oh really?" Bonnie faced the company. "Then I'll go first." She leaned into Rachelle's business. "I told you to never come near this house again."
"Look, I don't want to be here either," hissed Rachelle with one of her eyes twitching.
"Then why did you come? Oh wait! It's just because you're a pathetic little girl..." Bonnie moved up closer to Rachelle's face to where the tips of their noses were touching. "Just like you're father..."
"Just answer our questions, and we'll be on our way," Rachelle huffed out each word.
"Or what?..."
Rachelle didn't have an answer. "Leo? Why did you even let her in my house?" Bonnie snorted with spit.
Leo sighed and shook his head in misfortunate depression. "Bonnie, come on! She's your niece...," he tried to plead to his wife.
"Yeah!..." She turned back to Leo. "The niece who happened to kill our daughter."
"Look, you old hag! It was that boyfriend Zack Allen of hers who killed her!" Rachelle shouted with agitation.
"Oh save it for the jury! All I know is that my baby girl is gone, and it's because of you!" Bonnie shouted as she pointed a finger down on Rachelle.
"Excuse me?...," Lyndsay butted in with offense.
"Yes?" Bonnie grunted in the tone of her temper.
"So you're blaming Rachelle for Paisley's death?"
"Well of course! She's the one responsible! Who else is there to blame? If my daughter dies, then this Truman needs to die." Everybody suddenly gasped with shock except for Lyndsay.
Lyndsay threw a finger towards Bonnie. "So you are the one who's trying to to kill Rachelle!"
Rachelle started to panic internally. She laid a hand on Lyndsay's arm. "Lyndsay...," she hesitated as she began to freak out.
Lyndsay pushed away Rachelle's hand. "Ray, I know what I'm doing," she informed with confidence.
"Come again?" snarled Bonnie.
"You heard me...you're the one who's trying to kill my best friend," Lyndsay repeated herself.
"Do you want me to kill her? Fine then...I'll do it!" Bonnie frantically left the living room and into the kitchen.
Rachelle clenched Lyndsay's arm. "Lyndsay? Do you not know what you just got me into?" she freaked, shakingly.
Lyndsay pulled her arm away. "You'll thank me later," she winked.
Without a moment too soon, Bonnie ran into the living room with her shotgun. "Get out of my house you little twerp!" she screamed.
Lyndsay, Troy, and Ryan immediately fleed from the couch. Rachelle, screaming, tried to flee until Bonnie whacked her with the shotgun. Bonnie began to beat Rachelle ferociously with her weapon. Troy and Uncle Leo ran to the fight in order to rescue Rachelle. Leo grabbed Bonnie and pulled her away as Troy grabbed Rachelle from the couch. "I think that it's time to go," mumbled Troy as he helped Rachelle back onto her feet.
"Thank you for your time, Mr. and Mrs. Lawerence. I think that we shall be going now," informed Ryan. Leo waved and thanked the kids while trying to hold Bonnie back.
The gang began to leave until Bonnie blurted out another remark. "Yeah run away like you always do...just like that obnoxious man of yours that you call 'Dad'," she cried.
Rachelle quickly became agitated. "That does it!" she screamed. She grunted with fury and made a run towards Aunt Bonnie.
When she got close enough to Bonnie, Bonnie whacked her in the head with her shotgun. The bang to the head threw Rachelle into the wall. Bonnie released herself from Leo and whacked Rachelle in the head again. It then caused her to fall on her belly, unconscious.
"Rachelle!" cried Troy. He ran over to Rachelle, immediately sat her up, and tried to revive her. "Speak to me, Rachelle."
He patted her gently on the face. The thumping on the side of her face caused her to wake up. She slowly opened her eyes and mumbled, "Dad?"
"She's okay...," Troy reported to Lyndsay and Ryan. "Come on Rachelle, it's time to go." He held her arm and helped her back on her feet once more. He dragged her out the front door by the arm and shut the door behind them.
"Really, Rachelle? What's with you all of a sudden?" shouted Troy as he threw her outside.
"Excuse me?" grunted Rachelle as she brushed the dirt off of her clothes. "How would you feel if someone wouldn't shut up about your family?"
"Well...I wouldn't appreciate it."
"Exactly!"
"But that doesn't give you a reason to go and hurt anyone who does that!"
"I have a perfectly good reason..."
Troy shook his head without a care in the world. "Anyway...come on, let's go home," he suggested as he gently laid his hand on Rachelle's arm.
"No!" shouted Rachelle as she snatched her arm away from his possession.
"What's gotten into you, Rachelle?"
"You!" Rachelle jabbed a finger into Troy's business. "You're the problem! You keep getting underneath my skin, and I'm getting sick of it!"
"Come on, Rachelle! You're being ridiculous."
"No! I've had enough for one day...I'm going home..." Rachelle began to walk home until Troy stopped her.
"Okay...well let me take you there," Troy insisted.
"No! I know the way! I don't need any bodyguard, especially from someone like you!" grunted Rachelle.
"Rachelle!"
"Enough! I'm sick of all of this...and you! You need to quit treating me like I'm a defenseless little girl!"
"But?..."
"Enough! I can take care of myself...I'm taking myself home, and I don't need any help from you!" Troy kept quiet and didn't say another word as he watched Rachelle walk down the sidewalk in the opposite direction.
Rachelle headed into town, leaving her friends behind. As she came into town, she walked through Antelope Park to make a shortcut to her house. "I can't believe him and the way he treated me. He was treating me like a little girl. Oh, that makes me so mad," she mumbled to herself. Rachelle was halfway through the park when she walked past a bench. There was a guy sitting on the bench with one of his legs sticking out. As Rachelle walked by the guy, she tripped over his leg and face-planted onto the concrete.
The guy heard Rachelle fall and immediately rose up from the bench. "Oh my gosh, are you alright? I apologize! I did not see you there," he remarked. He grabbed her arm and helped her up.
"It's fine; it's not a big deal," Rachelle replied as she stood back onto her feet. The guy smiled and suddenly left in the opposite direction. "That was weird..." She brushed off the dirt from her clothes and started back on her walk.
On her way through the park, she saw her friend Hillary. "Hey, Hillary! How are you?" she greeted as she waved at her. Hillary waved back at Rachelle, and Rachelle continued on her walk.
Rachelle was walking down the sidewalk when an unthinkable, yet an unordinary, moment happened. Without being aware, a bowling ball randomly slammed Rachelle in the head. The blow to the head jammed her backwards into the nearest tree. She slid down on the grass on her butt while holding the bowling ball in her lap. Seconds prior to slamming into the tree, she began to lose consciousness.
Hillary saw the whole thing and shrieked. "Oh my gosh! Rachelle!" she cried. "Are you okay?" She ran to Rachelle's assistance. She tried to get Rachelle's attention, but wasn't having any luck. Rachelle was barely responding and couldn't see straight.
"Rachelle? Can you hear me?" hesitated Hillary as she tried to wake her up by gently patting her cheek.
"Lyndsay?" mumbled Rachelle, losing consciousness.
"No, it's me Hillary."
Rachelle began to feel a little drunk without having feeling in her limbs. "Hillary?...I always thought that you were a sweet girl," she slurred.
"Rachelle? What can I do? Do you need me to call someone?"
Rachelle pulled out her cellphone and gave it to Hillary. "Call...Troy...," she mumbled. She immediately fell over to the side as she completely fainted. Hillary panicked, turned on Rachelle's phone, and rapidly dialed Troy's phone number.
Troy, Lyndsay, and Ryan were stopped at a red light when Troy received a phone call. He pulled out his cellphone from his pocket and became surprised to see Rachelle calling him. Without any hesitation, he answered the incoming call with confidence.
"This is Troy...," he answered as he put the phone up to his ear in order to listen better.
"Troy?" asked Hillary nervously.
"Yes? What can I do? Rachelle?...You're not hurt, are you?"
"This is Hillary Rodriguez. I'm sorry to bother you, but it looks like that Rachelle had an accident."
"Is she okay?"
"Um, she got hit in the head with a bowling ball, and she's barely responding."
"Okay...we're on our way." Troy hung up the phone. "Well, change of plans. Rachelle's in trouble, so buckle up!" he announced to Lyndsay and Ryan.
Troy laid his foot on the accelerator and drove the vehicle to Antelope Park. When they arrived in the park, they saw Rachelle propped up against a tree. Troy, Ryan, and Lyndsay rushed their way over to Rachelle.
Lyndsay immediately gasped when she saw her best friend unconscious. "Oh my God!" she muttered. Everybody gathered around the injured Rachelle.
"Rachelle? Rachelle? Rachelle! Can you hear me?" Troy tried to get her attention by patting her on the cheek.
"Troy?...," mumbled Rachelle as she tried to come back to earth.
"How many 'me's' do you see?"
"Two..."
"How many fingers am I holding up?" he asked as he held up four fingers.
"Eight."
"Okay...apparently, she doesn't look too good."
"Is that a bump?" freaked Lyndsay, pointing to Rachelle's head. Her and the boys stared down at Rachelle's forehead.
Troy, quite curious, reached his hand out to touch the bump. Rachelle felt his fingertips and slapped his hand away. "Don't touch that! It hurts!" she grunted.
Troy pulled his hand away and cleared his throat. "Rachelle, can you remember anything? How did this happen?"
Rachelle leaned up nad saw the bowling ball sitting next to Ryan's foot. "Ryan, hand me that thing beside you," she requested, pointing at the bowling ball. Ryan picked up the object and placed it into Rachelle's hands. She stared down at the ball with confusion until she gained a brain fart.
"Do you know what?...," she began as she looked up at Troy. "I guess that I do remember what happened."
She cleared her throat and proceeded to explain. "This is what happened...I was walking through the park, because it's a shortcut to my house. I walked passed this guy who was sitting on a bench. I guess that he didn'st see me walk by, so I tripped over his foot and landed on the concrete. He helped me up and told me to be more careful, which I found very strange. I said thank you and began on my way home. The next thing I know, something hits me in the head and slams me into the tree."
"Okay...so...on scale from one to ten, how does your head feel?" asked Troy.
"About a nine," answered Rachelle.
"Well I just happen to have an ice pack." Troy pulled a fresh ice pack from his first aid kit and carefully placed it on Rachelle's bump. "Hey Ryan, may you hold that in place?"
"Sure thing," replied Ryan as he held the ice pack. Troy pulled out a roll of medical tape from the kit and used it to secure the ice pack to Rachelle's forehead.
Rachelle was all situated, and her friends began to talk amongst themselves. "So what do we do now?" wondered Troy.
"Should we take her to the hospital?" asked Ryan. They heard Rachelle moving and directed their attention towards her. She tried to stand up and immediately fell backwards, slightly unconscious.
"Rachelle!" screamed Lyndsay.
"Is that a good enough answer for you?" Troy hissed at Ryan.
"Yes! Hurry! She's too young to die!" cried Lyndsay. Her and the boys quickly ran to Rachelle to help her.
"Okay cripple...let's go," said Troy. He wrapped Rachelle's right arm around his neck. Ryan then wrapped Rachelle's other arm around his neck. Troy used his free arm to lift her up into his possession and carried her all the way to the truck. As he carried her to the vehicle, he looked down and noticed that her eyes were slightly opened. "Don't worry, Ray...I got you...," he whispered. Rachelle softly smiled, closed her eyes, and laid her head onto his chest.
Everybody eventually arrived at the vehicle. Troy opened the door and placed Rachelle in the passenger seat. He latched her seatbelt and shut the door.
Ryan approached Troy and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey Troy...I think that we're going to head on home. You take care and call either of us if you need to," said Ryan.
"Okay, thanks," said Troy. Lyndsay and Ryan began their way home as Ryan threw an arm around Lyndsay's neck. Troy watched them walk away. He looked over at the car window, saw Rachelle's head leaning against the door, and sighed with slight depression. He walked over to the driver's side, climbed into the seat, and drove to the nearest hospital.
They arrived at the hospital, and Troy carried Rachelle inside. He checked her in and sat in the waiting room. After they had waited for a couple of minutes, Rachelle was beginning to wake up. When she slightly opened her eyes, she realized that she was sitting on Troy's lap. She slowly lifted her head up from Troy's inner shoulder. Troy heard her sighing and noticed that she was beginning to gain consciousness.
"Rachelle?...," Troy mumbled.
"Troy?...," Rachelle mumbled back.
"How are you feeling?"
"My head really hurts." Rachelle looked around the room. "Where are we?" she asked.
"I had to bring you to the hospital," answered Troy.
"Why? Troy...I'm fine..."
"Rachelle! You just had bowling ball slam you into a tree. You have a big bump on your head, not to mention that you can't keep consciousness."
"Troy!"
"Rachelle, I just want to make sure that it's nothing serious."
"Rachelle Truman?" called a voice from the background.
Rachelle began to get up until Troy stopped her. "Here...I got this," Troy insisted. He threw her arm around his neck and carried her into the examination room.
"Troy, I can walk. You don't have to...," began Rachelle.
"I'm not taking the chance," said Troy as he carried her through the door. Rachelle sighed with disappointment. They walked into the examination room, and Troy sat Rachelle down on the examination table.
"Why would you do that?" mumbled Rachelle.
"What are you talking about?" wondered Troy.
"Why would you save me?"
"I had to. I couldn't just let you die. Besides, I care about everything that happens to you."
"Then why won't you believe that there's someone coming after me?"
"Now...you're going way over your head," said Troy as he patted Rachelle's shoulder. "Let's try not to push it too hard." Rachelle rolled her eyes disgust.
A few minutes later, the doctor walked into the room. He approached Troy and Rachelle and shook their heads. "Good afternoon, kids. My name is Dr. Dan Baxter," he introduced.
"Hello, Dr. Baxter. My name is Rachelle Truman, and this is my friend Troy James," Rachelle introduced.
Dr. Baxter sat down on the stool in front of Rachelle. "So what are we seeing you for today?" he asked.
"I was walking in the park, and I suddenly got hit in the head with a bowling ball. Unfortunately, it hit me so hard that I was slammed into a tree," answered Rachelle. "It's causing me to keep losing consciousness."
"Let's take a look," the doctor suggested as he moved up closer to her. He slowly and carefully removed the bandage and ice pack from Rachelle's forehead.
"Your forehead apparently is swollen and bruised," mentioned Dr. Baxter. He carefully pressed against her head in order to check for anymore pain. "Does it hurt when I push on your forehead?"
"Yes sir," answered Rachelle.
The doctor pulled out a little flashlight from his lab coat, had Rachelle look forward, and shined the light through her eyes to check her pupils. "Well physically, you head looks normal...you just have a swollen bruise near your hairline. I suggest that we have you get an MRI and a CAT scan done. We need to make sure that there isn't any internal bruising or bleeding." Rachelle and Troy nodded their heads in agreement.
The doctor pulled out a hospital gown and handed it to Rachelle with a smile. "I'll give you a few minutes to change, and Nurse Emily will be in shortly to take you down the hall," said Dr. Baxter.
"Thank you, doctor," thanked Rachelle. The doctor left the room and Rachelle began to change.
"Do you need some help?" asked Troy.
"Ha, ha...you're funny," remarked Rachelle sarcastically. She pulled the curtain around to give herself some privacy so she could change clothes.
A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Nurse Emily walked in and rolled in a wheelchair. Rachelle was changed into the hospital gown and ready to go.
"Hello, Rachelle. I'm Nurse Emily. I'm just going to take you down the hall, so we can get your CT scan and MRI done," announced the nurse as she parked the wheelchair at the end of the bed.
Rachelle softly smiled as she nodded her head. She slowly slid off from the side of the bed and tried to keep her balance as she headed for the wheelchair. Nurse Emily and Troy both grabbed an arm on Rachelle in order to help her to the chair. She sat in the wheeelchair very carefully, and Troy placed her feet on the pedals. Once she was all set, Nurse Emily rolled her out of the room. They left the examination room and went down the hall to the X-ray room.
"Okay, Ms. Rachelle. We're going to begin with the CT scan," informed Nurse Emily as she closed the door behind them. She rolled Rachelle to the machine. Rachelle came across the machine that was shaped like a large doughnut standing on it's side. "One thing that you should know is that the whole procedure typically takes about 30 minutes. Before we begin, you don't have any metal objects on you, do you? For instance, a belt, jewelry, dentures, or eyeglasses?" asked Emily.
"No ma'am. I removed all of that when I changed," answered Rachelle.
"Perfect! I mean, you'd be surprised of how many will still have those on them and go through the machine. It interferes with the image results, which causes us to have to start the procedure all over." Rachelle giggled without any words. "Have you had anything to eat or drink in the last couple of hours?"
"No ma'am."
"Good." Emily handed Rachelle a Dixie cup with a strange liquid. "I'm going to need you to swallow this. It's a special dye called contrast material. It helps highlight the specified areas of your body that we'll be examining. It may taste nasty, but it's required in the CT scan procedure."
Rachelle held her nose and swallowed the liquid. After the contrast material settled in her body for a few minutes, Nurse Emily rolled Rachelle over to the machine. She had her lie down on the motorized table and gave her a pillow to prop her head up. As soon as Rachelle was all situated, Emily walked to the back of the machine to turn it on.
"I'm going to need you to hold your breath as you move through the machine," Emily reported.
"Yes ma'am," answered Rachelle very kind. Rachelle held in her breath, and the procedure began. The motorized table began to slide through the opening of the tunnel, and the X-ray tube began to rotate around Rachelle. As she went through the machine, it made buzzing, clicking, and whining noises.
After the procedure completed the 30 minute cycle, Rachelle was done with the CT scan. Emily turned the machine off and helped Rachelle back into the wheelchair. "Now, be sure to drink lots of fluids in order for your kidneys to remove the contrast material from your body," she told Rachelle as she handed her a sip of water. While Rachelle drank the cup of water, Nurse Emily walked over to the computer to transfer the readings into its storage unit.
"Now we will move along to complete the MRI," Emily informed when she approached Rachelle. She grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and rolled Rachelle to the next machine. Rachelle approached the machine that looked like a long narrow tube that had both ends opened. The nurse helped her onto the table and had her lie down.
"For this procedure, it's crucial that you remain completely still. Any movement can cause some blurred images in the results. This whole procedure will only take up to 15 minutes," said Emily.
"Yes ma'am," Rachelle replied with a sweet smile. Emily turned the machine on, and the procedure officially began. With Rachelle lying completely still on the table, it began to slide into the opening of the tube. As it was completing the task, the internal part of the magnet began to produce repetitive tapping and thumping noises.
After the 15 minutes passed upon the clock, Rachelle's MRI was complete. She was helped back into the wheelchair, and Nurse Emily transferred the results into the computer, along with the CT scan results.
"Okay, Ms. Rachelle. We're done with the procedures," announced Emily as she approached the wheelchair. She grabbed the handles on the chair and rolled Rachelle back into the examination room. When they rolled back into the previous room, Rachelle slowly rose up from the chair and stood by the bed. "You are free to change back into your regular clothes."
"Thank you," said Rachelle as the nurse left the room. As soon as Nurse Emily rolled the wheelchair out the door, Rachelle pulled the curtain in order to change. She was back into her regular outfit, and her and Troy waited around for the results from the CT scan and MRI.
Around 30 minutes later, Troy and Rachelle had a visitor. It was Dr. Baxter. He entered the room in order to give the results. "Hey kids...," he began as he sat down on the stool next to Rachelle's bed.
"Hello, doctor," greeted Rachelle in response.
"I looked over the results from both of your CT scan and MRI, and they both look normal. I didn't see any tumors, blood clots, fractures, or any other abnormalities in the images."
"That's good!"
"What I want to know now is...how do you feel now?" asked Dr. Baxter very concerned.
"I mainly feel weak and dizzy. I feel a little nauseous with a horrible headache," answered Rachelle.
"Do you have any problems standing up or being able to walk? Do you have any blurred vision? Are you able to process information mentally?"
"I did have blurry vision earlier, but I'm gaining it back slowly. I can't really seem to stay well-balanced on my feet, and I'm having some difficulty concentrating. I'm not able to think clearly, and I had some trouble trying to remember what happened earlier today."
"Hmm...," began the doctor as he started to think. "Since your results didn't show any blood or bruising of the brain and you're experiencing many symptoms, I'm afraid that you simply have a concussion."
"A concussion?" Rachelle began to freak.
"Yes, my dear. A concussion is a traumatic brain injury that is caused by a blow to the head or body, a fall, or another injury that jars or shakes the brain inside the skull."
"So she got the concussion from when she was hit with the bowling ball?" asked Troy.
"Precisely." Dr. Baxter then turned his attention back to Rachelle. "Now Rachelle, I strongly recommend that you get plenty of rest—both physically and mentally. Getting plenty of rest will help you recover from your concussion. Be sure to avoid activities such as general and physical exertion, sports, or any other vigorous movements until you don't experience anymore of your current symptoms. Finally for your headaches, I encourage you to take a pain reliever in order to keep away any possible risks of bleeding in your brain."
"Yes sir," said Rachelle.
"Do y'all have any questions?"
"No sir," replied the teens with smiles.
"Alrighty then. If you don't have any other questions, then you guys are free to go," said the doctor.
"Thank you!"
Dr. Baxter shook both Troy's and Rachelle's hand and left the examination room. Troy walked over to Rachelle, wrapped an arm around her, and used his other hand to hold Rachelle's. He helped her down from the bed, let her out of the building and out to the truck, and helped her climb into the passenger seat. As soon as they were both settled into the vehicle, Troy started the engine and drove Rachelle home.
As soon as the vehicle was pulled in front of the Truman household, Rachelle slowly slid out of the truck and walked up to the front door. She unlocked the door with her house key and walked inside. "Mom, Dad, I'm home!" she called out as she closed and locked the door behind her. The house was completely quiet.
"Mom? Dad?" Rachelle tried again as she walked into the kitchen. She stepped foot in the kitchen as found a note on the refrigerator. It read: "Rachelle, we've went out to get groceries. We will be back soon. Love, Mom."
"Huh, okay...," mumbled Rachelle to herself. She threw her backpack on the couch and headed upstairs to her room. "I think that I'm just going to get some sleep." She sat on her bed, let out a deep yawn, and flopped her head onto her pillow.
An hour later, Rachelle's parents walked into the house with their arms loaded with fresh groceries. They took the groceries into the kitchen and quickly placed them in their spots. "Where's Rachelle? She usually helps us with the groceries," wondered Mr. Truman.
"Honey, she's probably upstairs sleeping," answered his wife.
"She's home?"
"Of course. Her bag is lying over there on the couch. She had a long day; she needs to rest," said Mrs. Truman. Her eyes looked at the kitchen counter and saw a light blinking on the phone line. "It looks like that we have two new messages." She walked over to the phone and pressed the blinking button.
"You have two new messages. To listen to the messages, press zero," said the recording. Mrs. Truman pressed the zero button.
"Hey Ray, it's me Ryan. I just wanted to call and check up on you. I heard from Troy that you have a concussion. I am so sorry to hear what happened. I hope that you get to feeling better real soon. Anyway...take care, good night, and I'll see you tomorrow...maybe," the recording played Ryan's message.
Without a moment to lose, the machine played the next message. It was a message from Lyndsay. "Hey Rachelle! I am so sorry to hear what happened. I had no idea that that bowling ball could hit you hard enough to give you a concussion. I wish that I would've been there right as soon as it happened. I promise that it will get better. I'm going to do everything that I can to find the one responsible. I am so sorry! I'm always a text or phone call away, so don't hesitate to call me at any time. I love you, and I will see you tomorrow."
The new messages were deleted, and Rachelle's parents were immediately shocked. They were petrified and speechless. "Did those two kids say that our daughter has a concussion?" freaked Mrs. Truman.
"I don't know...but I'm going to find out about it right now," said her husband. Grunting through his clenched teeth, he immediately began to head upstairs until his wife stopped him.
"Honey, shouldn't we wait until in the morning?" she insisted.
"If we're going to find out what had happened, then we're going to do it now!" Him and his wife were on the same page and headed up to Rachelle's bedroom.
"Rachelle Lynn Truman!" her father screamed from the staircase. Rachelle urgently perked up from her sleep with fright. He slammed her bedroom door open. "You're in big trouble young lady!"
Rachelle's mouth immediately dropped as her heart began to beat faster than normal. "Dad! I can explain..."
"Explain what? It looks like that you got hurt and didn't think about calling us," her father interrupted.
"Dad, I was unconscious. Besides, I tried calling y'all like three times and nobody answered."
"Really?" He pulled out his phone and saw three missed calls from her. Becoming guilty, he slowly slid his phone back into his pocket. "I'm sorry, sweetie." He kneeled down in front of Rachelle. "I'm just glad that you're okay."
Rachelle felt relieved that her dad wasn't angry with her. She smiled down on him. "I love you, baby, Ray," said her dad.
"I love you too, dad." Rachelle gave her father a much appreciated hug.
They released the hug, and Mr. Truman kissed Rachelle on the forehead. "Now why don't you get some sleep," he insisted.
They smiled at each other. Her dad stood up from the carpet and exited Rachelle's bedroom. As he left the room, his wife walked in to talk to Rachelle.
"Mom?" mumbled Rachelle when she saw her mother enter through the doorway.
Her mother softly smiled and sat down on the bed next to Rachelle. How are you feeling, sweetheart?" she asked Rachelle.
"I'm feeling a ltitle better," replied Rachelle. She softly smiled back at her mom, and the two of them hugged each other tightly. "May you do me a favor?" she asked her mother once they released the hug.
"Of course! What do you need?"
"I have this splinter in the middle of my back. It's really bothering me, and I was wondering if you could get it out. I'd do it, but it's in a spot that I can't reach."
"Sure! I'll go get the tweezers." Mrs. Truman left the room to go grab the supplies. Rachelle sat sideways on her bed and pulled her shirt over her head to make it easier for the splinter to be removed.
A few seconds later, her mom returned with a bowl and pair of tweezers in her hands. Rachelle was ready on the edge of the bed, and Mrs. Truman became situated next to her. Before she began to proceed, she saw something strange. There wasn't just one splinter in Rachelle's back; her back was covered with them.
"Honey? Are you sure that there's only just one splinter?" asked Mrs. Truman.
"Yes ma'am. I think so...why?" answered Rachelle becoming nervous. Mrs. Truman used her phone to snap a picture of Rachelle's back and showed it to her. "Oh my God!" There were splinters everywhere on Rachelle's back.
"Rachelle, how did this happen?" asked her mother.
Rachelle began to breathe heavily. "I guess that I got those splinters when I was slammed into the tree."
"Excuse me?..." Mrs. Truman became worried. Rachelle started to respond until her mom interrupted her. "Why don't you tell me what happened as I remove these splinters."
Rachelle swallowed a gulp and proceeded to explain what happened as her mom pulled the splinters out with the tweezers. "I was walking home and decided to take a shortcut through Antelope Park. As I was strolling through, I tripped over some guy's leg. He helped me up and just walked off. Before I could start back on my trail, a bowling ball smacks me in the head. It hit me out of nowhere and slammed me into the tree. I'm guessing that when I slid down against the tree, pieces of the bark got wedged into my back."
"Well don't worry, baby girl. We've almost got all of them removed," said Mrs. Truman, feeling sympathetic for her daughter. While she picked the splinters out of Rachelle's skin, the back of Rachelle's right thigh began to itch. She carefully leaned to the side and scratched it. Rachelle's scratching concerned Mrs. Truman.
"Are you doing okay, sweetie?" she asked.
"Yes ma'am," answered Rachelle as she got herself comfortable again.
"Okay..." Mrs. Truman continued to pull out the rest of the splinters.
A few minutes later, the very last splinter was pulled out of Rachelle's back. "There you go, honey. We got them all out," informed Mrs. Truman.
"Really?"
"Of course!" Mrs. Truman helped Rachelle pull her shirt back over her head and down over her torso.
Rachelle straightened out the wrinkles in her shirt and turned to face her mother.
"Thank you, mom," she thanked.
"You're welcome, sweetheart." Mrs. Truman kissed Rachelle on the forehead. "Now why don't you get some sleep."
Rachelle smiled and laid down on her bed. Her mother covered her with a blanket, and Rachelle fell right to sleep. Mrs. Truman grabbed the used supplies and quietly closed the door as she walked out of Rachelle's bedroom.