Releasing DEC 06, 2013
Chapter One (sneak peek)
Copyright@2013 Devon Youngblood
Have you ever wondered what it’s like to receive that dreaded phone call? The one about someone you care about being in the hospital? Well, it is the worst thing you can hear. Today started out as any normal day. I woke up to the blaring sound of my alarm. Waiting until the last minute to get up, I rush to get showered and ready for work. Looking in the mirror, I pull my long thick dark auburn hair into a ponytail and put some makeup on, just enough so my face is not bare. I race quickly to the kitchen, pouring my morning coffee into my mug. Grabbing my lunch bag, I open the freezer to grab a frozen dinner to throw inside.
I’m almost out the door when my phone rings. I hesitate to answer it because I’m already late. I glance at the phone, but didn’t recognize the number.
“Hello?” I say into the receiver.
“Hi, I’m calling for Lily De Luca?” a female voice asks.
“This is she,” I say nervously.
“This is Memorial Hospital. I’m calling to inform you that your mom has been in an accident. You need to come down here right away.”
My heart sinks as I listen to those words. How can this be? I just talked to my mom last night, she was perfectly fine. My heart beats rapidly. I race around looking for my car keys, where did I last see them? I think to myself. Finally, I see them on the table by the door, grab my purse and head out quickly. Inside the car, my hands are shaky as I insert the key in the ignition. I get the key in and barely have it in drive before I am on the road racing toward the hospital. On the way, I am plagued by the thoughts of my mom and how serious this could be. Maybe she only has a broken arm or leg or something. “Please don’t let it be any worse, please, please, please.” I plead out loud.
After weaving in and out of traffic for ten minutes I pull into the hospital emergency parking lot, pulling into the closest parking spot I can find. In a rush, I throw the car into park, grab my purse, and run inside.
Looking around quickly I spot the front desk with a gray haired woman behind it. Her eyes meet mine as she lifts her head and she nods in greeting. “Hi, I was told my mom is here. Can you tell me where she is? She’s been in an accident,” I say, rushing out the words.
“Slow down. What is her name?” The gray haired woman asks me, trying to calm me.
“Her name is Cynthia, Cynthia De Luca. Please hurry; I need to know where she is.”
The woman types my mom’s name into the computer system and directs me down the hall to the left. My legs carry me quickly toward the direction the woman sent me. I make a last minute plea that my mom is okay, and approach the emergency room to see a woman behind a glass window. Other people are waiting in the room; some waiting to be admitted, and others look like they are waiting to hear news about their loved one. I approach the glass window, informing her that I was called about my mom being admitted.
“She was in an accident. Her name is Cynthia De Luca,” I wait impatiently while she looks up the information, it seems like I’m waiting forever.
“Ma’am, you can take a seat in the waiting room. A nurse will be out shortly to talk with you,” she replies and slides the window shut.
I tap on the window until she reopen is and I plead. “Can you at least tell me if my mom is okay?”
“Please take a seat, a nurse will be out shortly.”
Letting out a sigh, I sit in the nearest chair, located in the center of the room. I’m so sick with worry that my heart has not slowed its rapid pace. I shake my foot against the floor a million miles a minute as I wait. I just can’t sit still.
I glance to my right and spot a guy around my age, maybe in his early or middle twenties. He has dark, almost black hair and the lightest blue eyes I have ever seen. His face is somber, with his elbow resting on the arm of the chair and his hand holding his head cocked to the side. His eyes meet mine, but we don’t speak. What do you say to someone in a waiting room? Glancing at my left, I see an elderly woman holding her wrist as her face expresses the pain she’s likely feeling, as a young woman sits next to her, trying to comfort her until they can be seen by the doctor.
My stomach rumbles and I’m not sure if it’s the nerves or if I am actually hungry. I haven’t eaten yet today so it’s more likely the latter. About ten minutes pass before a nurse enters the room. “Lily De Luca?” The nurse glances around the room. I stand to walk toward her. She leads me out in the hall for privacy.
“Lily? Hi. I’m Nurse Anne and I have some information on your mother.”
Before she can say anything else, I ask, “Is she alright? Can I see her?”
“Your mom has been in a serious car accident. She is being prepped for surgery as we speak. She has suffered some serious trauma, and we need to get her stabilized before you can see her. I will keep you informed,” she says, leaving me in the hall and rushes down the corridor through the swinging double doors. My mom is just beyond those doors. She is probably frightened and there is no one there to hold her hand. I walk back into the waiting room and take a seat back in the chair I was previously sitting in.
“Bad news?” the young man sitting next to me asks.
“My mom was in a car accident. It’s pretty serious. She is being prepped for surgery now.”