The ambulance siren blares as some man asks me questions that seem dumb. Of course I’m alright, I’m thinking, too shocked to speak. I just want to know what happened. “You’re going to be okay.” The man responds as if he read my mind. Of course I will be, I just want to know where the hell Tyler is!
“Where’s my brother?” I’m finally able to ask out loud.
“Sir, all we need you to do is for you to remain calm and still.” This jerk wasn’t answering my questions. “Does anything hurt?” He continues, he is persisting now.
“My hand hurts, that’s because of the shattered glass in it. Is my brother alright?” I ask again. I’m starting to get angry.
“Look, kid, we don’t know yet, your brother got tossed up and we’ll know soon but I’m sure he’ll be okay.” The ambulance stops moving and the stretcher I’m on is being lifted out into the cold night air.
“I demand to know where Tyler is!” I yell.
“You’re brother is in the ICU, he’s being cared for by the best doctors as we speak.” A nurse states as if that news would calm me. At this point I don’t even care about the pain in my leg and the glass in my hand, I just want to see my Ty. I am wheeled into a small bay with curtains and beeping machines where they start to examine my injuries. I keep repeating,
“I’m fine.”
“Sir, you might have a broken leg, we need x-rays to check it out.” A doctor said in an annoyed voice, “you can find out how your brother is soon but not until we’re done making sure you’re okay.” The strangers continue to manipulate me. My anxiety builds and builds and the doctors and nurses keep telling me more and more loudly to remain still. In between my squirming they remove glass and elevate my leg. Time passes in slow motion. So many people come in and out of the curtains. Finally, the crowd around me starts to die down and it makes me wonder where my parents are. Now there is only a nurse and I have time to think about the worst. The nurse is fiddling with my IV. Suddenly I feel warmth spreading up my arm and the room begins to look fuzzy. I also start to feel dizzy and then everything fades to black.
I wake up and, at first, don’t realize where I am because I’m now in a different room, not in the same ER bay where I began. This room is plain white with not as many machines and much larger. I have no idea how much time has passed. There are no windows to tell where the sun is. I remember suddenly why I am here and notice my parents in the room. My mother is sobbing into a mass of tissues, my father is breathing deeply. He seems to be holding back tears. I instantly have 1,000 questions. Why is everyone here? Why is mom crying? What is wrong with me? How long was I out? Is there something I need to know? Nobody is talking. Wait, where the hell is my brother?! “How is he?” I ask in a panic. They both look at me at the same time and then they both turn away again. My mother begins sobbing harder and begins choking. I already know the answer but I don’t want to believe it.
My dad starts,”He’s, he’s.” He can’t continue.