The Broken Mirror

Chapter 8: Flashback-Mom?

"Everything's going to be okay," My father said, attempting to comfort me. Something was going on that was out of the ordinary, but my father refused to inform me about the current situation. I was already starting to get worried and my dad didn't want me to, but him not telling me even a little bit about what's going on was only getting me worked up and worried that much more. I've passed the age where if something troublesome is going on you don't tell them so they don't get worried. I'm more at the age where the person will worry even more if you keep it from them, because if you're keeping it a secret than it's usually something bad.

"Dad, please tell me what's going on," I begged, getting more worked up by the minute. Because my mom wasn't here with us, I had a feeling that something bad had happened to her, but what specifically I still have yet to figure out. I know that she hasn't been doing all that well lately so that just confirmed my already present thought of something having happened to her. Out of nowhere, his phone began to ring. He let go of me and got back up on his feet. He had been knelt down facing me while holding me near to him by my shoulders.

"We have to go now," He told me as he hung up the phone. My father, Toby, had a very worried expression on his face, like something very terribly wrong had happened. It wouldn't surprise me if something horribly wrong actually had happened.

"Get your boots and coat on and come out to the car," He instructed. I nodded my head briskly and did just that, slipping my bulky winter boots on and sliding my pale baby blue puffy coat on. My dad isn't the kind of person who rushes things, he's more of a 'stop and smell the roses' kind of guy. He takes it easy and takes life as it comes and enjoys every minute of it, so this was extremely odd behavior.

"Ready?" My father questioned before looking me up and down. He saw that I had my boots and coat on so he grabbed hold of my wrist and dragged me out the door with him. It didn't hurt or anything so I didn't bother to waste my breath and object to this action. I nodded my head slowly in response to his question, even though it was a moot point now.

"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice readapting to it's usual squeak.

"We're going to the hospital. Your Aunt Kenna will be meeting us there," Toby informed. "I've got some things that I need to take care of so she'll be there to watch over you."

"Okay," I muttered under my breath. I was really starting to get worried now. I see my Aunt Kenna next to never, so for me to see her because of something like this, whatever it may be, is quite serious and now I'm starting to think that it was best that I not have been informed of the situation.

It was a very quite drive on the way to the hospital, but why would it be riddled with conversation? What would we have to talk about at a dark time like this? The car jerked into the first free parking space close to the door in sight. I anchored my hands onto the back of the front passenger's seat that I was sitting behind. I didn't expect that sharp curve so I did this to keep myself from being thrown right into the door. I opened my door to get out to see my dad standing right there. He took my hand and dragged me into the hospital, but I expected this to happen so I was able to keep up with him without my heels scraping across the paved ground.

The hospital had nothing but clear white walls and the smell of antiseptic in it. There were nurses in scrub wear and doctors in white lab coats buzzing around like worker bees in the hive on the floor with something to do. A frightened expression immediately made it's way onto my face. My father caught a quick glimpse of it and pulled me closer to his side in a comforting fashion. The expression upon my face lessened but it was still ever present.

We twisted our way through many hallways and it came to the point where my feet had become so fatigued that my dad had to pick me up. When I was walking on my own two feet, I had to run to keep up with his walk so that tired my feet out quite quickly, and I was so relieved when he had silently offered to carry me, by way of pantomimes. I would have sworn that we'd be walking around forever until my father finally stopped at a desk.