The Little Things Don't Matter | Teen Ink

The Little Things Don't Matter

April 29, 2013
By meggilli SILVER, Media, Pennsylvania
meggilli SILVER, Media, Pennsylvania
7 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Life's a track meet and i'm just playing in the sand"


~Father’s Point of View~
As I ran, my pace meeting the beats of my breath, I thought of my family, or what’s left of it. I thought about my daughter, cheering me on from mile 26, yelling her little heart out. She, of course, was standing among the crowd, with my soon-to-be ex-wife. I glance to my left and see the final mile markers. These mile markers have been accompanying me to my destination, mile 26, the end of the marathon. I thought of the reason I was running, which was to show my ex-wife that I am not a miserable loser and I can accomplish something. Just ahead I see the finish line. I see my daughter. Even though, I can’t quite hear her, I can feel her cheering me on, inside my pounding heart. Only a 100 yards or so. One second I see the finish line ahead of me, the next second the world peels away to reveal a never-ending black hole.

~Daughter’s Point of View~
I’m very proud of my father for showing that he can do something of meaning, something more than work, eat, and sleep. Daddy works way too much. Mommy and I would go a week at a time withot seeing him. When I did get to see him, he was always nice to me. Ever since Daddy moved out I haven’t gotten any of my special piggyback rides. I miss our time together. Mommy seems really mad at Daddy. I know it’s not really my business, but I’m pretty sure mom is mad because work “eats- or was it consumes- my dad’s life”.
I looked down the road, and saw my daddy in his bright orange running shirt and black shorts. He was quickly approaching the finish line. All around me, people were chanting, yelling, and screaming. I know they weren’t all there for my daddy, but I like to think they were just as proud of him as I was. He was out of breath, and his skin was red (either from sunburn or sweat). People were running all around him, but all I could see was my daddy and the pride he and I shared.
Without warning, I heard a woman scream and a loud boom that sounded like thunder. I looked around and people were running every which way. I looked to see my mommy call out for my dad to watch out. It was too late. My daddy was hit, he fell to the ground in what looked like an awfully painful position, and a lot of blood. Next thing I knew, mommy and I were running to daddy as fast as possible. I couldn’t tell what just happened; however, I did know that I needed to get to my dad fast.

~Mother’s Point of View~
To see my daughter, cheering for my ex-husband, almost made me forgive everything. It was a stupid, pointless fight. I tried to not let it get to me. My husband works hard, being a doctor. The shifts are long and arduous, and when he gets home all he wants to do is sleep. I respect his job and do my best to try and make things easier for him when he gets home, but some days it’s like he takes advantage of me. Normally, fights like this last a day or so; however, this fight has reached the point of divorce. I thought we could get past this, I still think we could get past this, but I just don’t know anymore.
As I look around the lovely city of Boston, I think about what once was. I see my husband, I mean ex-husband, drawing near the finish line. I see my daughter cheering him on. Unexpectedly, I heard a loud BOOM, and felt the ground shake. I reached out for my daughter. Suddenly, the world started moving in slow-motion. I looked down and saw my husband’s steps falter, followed by him crashing to the ground as a load of shrapnel busted through my husband’s leg. I grabbed my daughter and started to run towards him.

~Daughter’s Point of View~

I was so scared. I’ve never been this scared before. All around me, people were yelling and running everywhere. The blood stained the sidewalk, from the explosion. Mommy was crying and dragging me to the place where daddy fell down. I was praying that daddy was okay.

I thought back about the explosion in slow motion. There was one loud boom, then a few seconds later another one, kind of farther away. I saw daddy fall down and blood surrounding his leg. Then, around him the same thing happened to other runners around him. Mommy pulled me along as she quickly sprinted towards dad.
I know daddy will be okay. It’s obvious that mom still cares about dad, by the way she is crying. She is bawling her eyes out. I feel as if the entire fight they had is of no importance now.

~Mother’s Point of View~
I felt my heart stop, everything turned to slow-motion. I could hear people giving directions, police officers; however, I couldn’t make out what they were saying. My only thought was to get to my husband and get him the medical assistance he needed ASAP.
When we arrived next to him, I knelt down. I put a shaky hand on his head, and muttered the words “Honey, everything will be okay. Just keep talking to me”. He moaned and rolled around on the cold pavement a little. I couldn’t stop the tears from gathering at my eyes. All of our fighting seemed insignificant right now. As mad as I was, I couldn’t stand to lose him. I saw our daughter give him a hug and say, “daddy I love you”.
I felt a tap on my shoulder. A police officer told me that my husband needed medical attention right away; therefore, they needed to put him in an ambulance en route to the hospital, urgently. Then, I demanded that my family ride in the ambulance with him. As soon as I got the OK to ride, I grabbed my daughter into my arms and we ran along side the stretcher.
We go to the hospital and my husband was quickly seen by a doctor. The doctor told me that my husband’s leg would need to be amputated, and he was suffering from a minor concussion, but overall, he would survive. That news sent my heart fluttering. I shared the information with my distraught daughter. The doctor, then, told me that my husband’s leg was successfully amputated and he has woken up, and that we could go visit him.



~Husband’s Point of View~
I woke up in a overly bright, white hospital room. Something felt weird about my body, as if a piece of me was missing. I panicked. Where was I? Better question, where was my leg? My daughter, is she okay? And what about my wife?
All my questions were answered , when the tiny door opened to reveal my family. They ran towards my and my daughter jumped on me. A load of I-love-yous were exchanged. My wife told me about the bombings and how I never finished the race, and the part where the shrapnels made my leg need to be amputated. I was thankful I was alive and okay, and so was my family.

We sent our daughter to go pilfer some free chocolate pudding from one of the nearby nurse’s stations. Us grownups needed to talk. As soon as the door shut, my wife grabbed me and said “I know I was mad before, but now I realize that we both need to change. I’m willing to, if you’re willing to change. I love you”.
“ I love you too, and I have never been more willing to do anything” I replied.


We then hugged, and let our daughter join the embrace when she returned. We were one big happy family, one big lucky family. I couldn’t be more thankful for anything else. I was thankful for the rare second chance I was given.



Epilogue- Wife’s point of view
In the days following, my husband got a prosthetic leg. He was improved so much, he spends more time with us, and he never puts his career first. As soon as he got his new leg, he went back to the site where he fell, and finished his race. We cheered for him so hard. They finally caught the evil human that did this terrible crime. We survived this struggle, and we recognize how lucky we are. My family and I have continued to pray for all the victims that haven’t been as fortunate as us.


The author's comments:
In English class, We were told to write a short story, one that was emotional.
This piece is dedicated to all the victims of the Boston Marathon.

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