The Broken Head And The Real Friendship

Decent Essays

The Broken Head and the Real Friendship The day had been perfect, till I got the call… I awoke to the smell of light, fluffy pancakes slathered in maple syrup, and greasy, fat bacon, just how I like it. “Shea, come downstairs and eat! We have to leave by 10,” My dad yelled from the kitchen. Our cousins had invited us to go to their lake house at Cedar Creek Lake; we accepted with enthusiasm because we had never seen it before. “Coming right down.” I shouted back to my dad. Hopping out of bed, I pulled on my favorite t-shirt and most comfortable shorts, stuffed some clothes into a small duffel bag, and pounded down the stairs. We left at 11, late as usual. All five of us squeezed in the silver Volvo, hip to hip, blasting country music as we ventured into the Dallas suburbs. At 11:35 AM, my phone buzzed and Cammy Davis’, my best friend Eliza’s mom, name lit up on the screen. This is odd, Cammy rarely calls me. Shouldn’t Eliza call me instead? Turning down the music, I answered the phone. “Hey Cammy! What’s up?” I asked. “Are you in Dallas?” She asked in a panicked voice, but I could hardly hear her because of the cacophony from the other line. I wondered where she was. “Burberry, Eliza’s horse, bucked her off and now Eliza is unconscious, she has been for the last six minutes. I am in an ambulance and we are going down to Presbyterian Hospital, come if you want. I just thought you should know.” The line crackled then went dead. In a serious but quiet voice I

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