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Saying Good Bye
“Mom watches out!” I screamed as I suddenly realized that there was an eighteen wheeler coming right for us. Sharp pain in my side. Stings in my leg. Warm air? Mom? Sticky redness.
“Abigail? Are you ok?” he sounded far away. Beep Beep Beep. The beeping was loud in my ear. I tried to open my eyes but the light was too bright. I had to squint and turn away. On one side of me stood my father, he looked rough with the long dark beard and his dark hair looking like it’s trying to get away from his head. On my other side I saw nurses and doctors trying to figure out what the machines were saying. The kept looking at their clip boards and writing down things.
I turn back to the scruffy man right beside me. “Mom?” Was she as bad off as me or worse?
“No she didn’t make it” his cold voice said. It was like nothing had happen. Dad was just going through the motions. He was just paying the bills and talking care of us. He knew nothing about my life. He didn’t know who I hung out with or anything and he didn’t care about us anymore.
“What? How is that fair? I live and she dies? As soon as the words start spilling out of my mouth the tears start falling down my face. I can’t believe she’s gone and I am left here by myself. I just want to be alone. When I turn to get away from everyone I feel a pinching in my side and leg. I tell the nurse and she gives me more morphine.
“You will be sore because you have two broken ribs and your leg is broken in three places. You also have bruises all over you.” Her voice was soft and sweet.
Every hour they kept coming into my room checking on me and how I was progressing. Finally the doctor came in and started asking me questions.
“What is today’s date? When is your birthday? Do you know where you are?” He was pushing the questions in my face.
“Today is April the 7th. My birthday is April the 28th. I’m in Searcy, Arkansas. What are the questions about?” I was wondering just as much as he was asking.
“We have to make sure your memory is ok but by your answers you’re not. Today is not the 7th it’s the 14th and yes you have your birthday right and where you are. Do you remember what happen to your mom and you?”
“I remember we were in our car going to dance class. I’m a ballerina and we have practice every Monday. We were listening to the radio singing along and then, well I don’t remember anything after that. What happened after that? Can you tell me?” I was hoping he could tell me why my dad was saying my mother was not here anymore.
“Well an eighteen wheeler was going the wrong way and it hit the car more on your mom’s side then yours. It killed her instantly and you are banged up because you went through the windshield.” He sounded like he felt sorry for me but I knew better. The doctors never cared about their patients.
“What? What!?” My voice started to go out as I tried to scream at the doctor. Just as I had stopped crying I could feel the tears start coming down my face again. How could we have not seen that truck? Why didn’t we pay more attention? It’s my fault for wanting to do ballet. I’m the one who killed my mom. I was sick thinking about it. I couldn’t get it through my head what had happened. I turned away from the doctor wanting to be alone and try to breath. I didn’t even have time to say goodbye.