Disturbing Hallucination

The flashing red lights danced through the broken blinds, staining the walls like blood. Olive stood barefoot on the carpet, toes curled in, watching the paramedics wheel her mother out the front door. The stretcher wobbled slightly on the cracked porch step, and the bottle of vodka her mom dropped earlier still rolled lazily under the couch.

Her mom's eyes weren't open. Her lips were blue. Someone was yelling outside, but it all sounded like underwater noise. Olive didn't move. She didn't cry either. She had already done all of that-when she found her mom on the floor, face down in spilled soup and glass. When the 911 lady asked her over and over again if her mom was still breathing.

The door slammed shut behind them. The sirens faded.

She was alone again.

The clock said 2:07 AM. The hallway was too quiet.

Olive walked to her room, stepped over the laundry, and sat on her bed. Her journal was still open from earlier that day when she doodled a picture of a cat with wings.

Now her hands were shaking.

She picked up her pencil.