"Hello?" I gasped. I was forced to run from the living room to the second floor bathroom in order to have access to the phone. My mindless over-protective father must have left it there, and I was completely winded from the run. I really need to work out.
"Dreamer!" My mother breathed, and as soon as she said my name, I could hear muffled sobs coming from the other end of the phone.
This surprised me even more than the empty house. My mother never calls me by my full name, she usually just sticks to Dee unless I'm in trouble.
I remember one time asking her about why she never liked to call me Dreamer. I was about eight, as I walked up to her one night after dinner while she was finishing up the dishes. After I asked, she gased upon me with curious eyes said that Dee was short and sweet. I had asked her then why she hadn't just named me Dee, if she liked it so much. Her reply was a mindless shrug, and with that, she folded up the faded green dish towel, placed it neatly over the faucet, and went off to her bedroom.
"Mom? Whats the matter? Why are you crying? What happened?" I questioned.
She didn't answer, and continued to weep. I decided to try a different method.
"Mom," I said sternly but calm, "where are you?"
I heard a deep breath, a sigh, and then my mother spoke.
" Forks Hospital."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I nearly dropped the phone as I ended the call and raced for the stairs.
I took the stairs two at a time, making my legs move as fast as possible. I barged into my room and sprinted to my dresser, snatching my big black bag which held my keys. Then, I raced down the stairs, moving so fast that I lost my footing and fell face first down and onto the hard wooden floor. I huffed out a huge amount of air as I landed on my back, and struggled to breath.
I layed there for a moment, forgetting what I was in such a hurry for. Maybe it was to get an aspirin for my head, because I could hear it throbbing now. No, I thought. I must have hit it while falling down the stairs. I could possibly have been trying to get the ankle brace I kept safe in my closet, because it felt like my ankle was twisted into a knot, and I groaned in pain. If this was true, what was I doing running down to the main floor? I furrowed my brow in confusion as I struggled to remember what was so important.
Suddenly, my mind went blank. Wait, what was I just thinking of again? I couldn't keep my train of thought, and suddenly, black spotts started clouding my vision.
My eyesight was out, so I focused on my other senses. What is that dripping sound? It sounded so close, yet so far away. And why does it smell like rust and salt? I crinckled my nose in disgust as I recognized the smell. Blood.
I groaned again, but this groan was different, weaker than the first. I felt myself slipping away, slowly giving in to the black wall of unconsiousness. I slowly, unwillingly, drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
