The Car - Original Writing

Have you seen my husband? Is all my mom was shouting as she held my hand tightly, running back and forth through the hospital? A receptionist sent us to a room, which felt like coming into an isolated mausoleum. The cold air enveloped my entire body, ice has replaced my spine and numbness is all my fingers felt. The room was somber dark, dead silence; the only sound heard was the heart machine ... Beep … Beep. There wasn’t anything more traumatizing then seeing my father lain on the bed, unresponsive, tubes coming from out mouth and nose. The sadness and desperation in his eyes broke my heart. All of sudden the heart monitor went off with a loud buzzing sound. A nurse jumped out of nowhere “Code Blue”, in matter of seconds 4 nurses and a doctor surrounded my father, my mom and I mindset was at a shock, like were able to see what was happening but couldn’t do anything our body was some glued to the floor. The doctors and nurses tired to help my father but it was too late,

I asked my mom “what’s wrong,” she replied with a sorrowful “your Aunt Lisa is in trouble, we must leave now.” The worst part of all of this was my Aunt Lisa’s son was with us, Matthew. He did not know what to think or believe. No one knew the world would slowly start shattering beneath all of us that morning. We drove to her house, we saw ambulances and police cars driving by, that did not help our nerves at all. We finally arrived at her apartment, we never thought all of those emergency vehicles would be going there. My brother and I stay in the car since I was only eight and he was only eleven. My mom and cousin run into the apartment hoping to only find my Aunt had fallen and is unconscious, or she is passed out drunk, just let it be something that is not permanent. What they come to find is that my Aunt is laying on the floor, unconscious, but cold as ice. It was not from someone killing her, or us getting there too late. She had died twenty-four minutes before that phone

On Wednesday, November 26, 2014, I was coming out of a very hectic day at work, when I received the news that had me breaking down in tears. “Odette your mother is in the emergency room.” I could not believe the words that were coming out of my father's mouth in that instinct. So many thoughts came rushing through my mind. “Why, my mom?” I kept on asking myself, but I knew that I could not show my depression to my two younger siblings. The reason for that was that I did not want to scare them nor make them feel the horrible feeling that I was feeling inside. Even though I appeared to look fine in the outside, my precious soul was dying in sorrows in the inside. The scariest thought of knowing your mother is in danger and that you cannot do anything to save her is very traumatizing. I honestly felt like my hands were tied behind my back while I saw her drowning in pain.

I walked away feeling like I was a complete failure and that I didn’t deserve to go on. On the way home my mother tried to talk to me, but, I put on my headphones and cried silently. Once we were home my father asked how it went. The tears that were in my eyes and they became more evident as my shoulders and chest were shaking and trembling. The only sound in the room was the sound of me crying and wailing. I started crumbling and falling to the ground and my mother and father rushed to my side. They held me until the tears came to a stop and a little bit afterwards

I was panicking I didn’t know what I did I thought I was in some kind of trouble, but when I got to the principal’s office, there were 2-3 police officers there waiting for me. They sat me down with a concerned look and told me some terrible news. These few words that I could never get out of my head. It’s as if there locked in a prison. They told me that my father was in an accident at first I thought that they were just talking about a car accident. I had no idea what to expect. Then they told me that my father had passed away I started balling my eyes out I didn’t know what to do. They soon drove me back to my house where I saw my brother and a few neighbors and friends. There were a few cop cars and an ambulance. I later found out that he had committed suicide. My aunt and uncle came and picked us up from my house and brought us to their house where they tried to cheer us up a bit it was my cousins birthday so we tried to have a

We drove for what seemed hours to my six year old self. When we arrived in the parking lot of the hospital, which I can never remember the name of, he told us why we were there. Lauren threw a fit, screaming and crying like someone was hurting her. She shouted “I never wanted him”. I believe that is still to this day the biggest lie she has ever told. We walked up to the big glass hospital doors, and straight through them to the elevator. I waited and waited for what seemed forever until the big silver doors opened, and my dad showed us which way to go. We walked past room after room listening to the crying and sometimes laughter. Finally, we got to the right room and we walked in. There sat my mother on a hospital bed. She didn’t seem hurt or in pain, but they said it was happening fast. At one point my mother’s father (Poppy) took us down to the cafe, and all I remember is that hospitals have very good spaghetti. My Poppy got a phone call and all of the sudden we were on the move, going through the halls like there was a fire we were trying to escape from. When we got back to my mother’s hospital room, everyone looked so upset; their faces, eyes and cheeks were red and

My mom rushed towards me while Veronica phoned 911. About after 15 minutes of waiting, my mom grabbed me and set me down in the backseat of the car. She and Veronica quickly jumped in the car and began to drive to the hospital. Mom was driving while Veronica was ripping up her shirt and covering up my wound. When we finally reached the hospital, my mom and Veronica carried me through the doors and got me to a nurse named Mrs. Zowcowitz.`` I need help, it’s my son, he’s been shot.’’ My mom said panicking.`` I’ll go get help.’’ Nurse Zowcowitz said running through the hall. ``Doctor! Doctor! There’s a boy he’s been shot! He’s losing a lot of blood.’’ She said flailing her arms.`` I’m going right now.’’ Dr. Wade said running towards me. ``Oh there is a lot of blood, quick, we have to get him upstairs.’’ Dr. Wade said calm and collective like. I was then put on a stretcher and was rushed into an elevator. I can remember looking up at my mother with tears in my eyes. I was going to die, I knew it. When they finally got me to a room, I was laid on a bed on was being hooked up with an I.V. ``Everything is gonna be ok.’’ Mom said. Even though the doctors tried their best to save me, I closed my eyes and died shortly

As I approached my mother she was heart broken she kept saying that it’s going to be alright my father was hurt holding all of us my whole family was in shock because out of all the people my brother hung around and all the people in his circle who would’ve thought he would be the one to die. My father felt like all of the sins he committed karma didn’t hit him it hit his son you see my brother passed away on father’s day and that made my whole family different it made me and my little brother get closer we would always fight. The media and the school showed up like 3 days in a row to speak with us I did not want to speak because of the circumstances the way I seen it was that nobody cared about us and they didn’t feel our pain at all, during the time I felt like I had nobody I stayed in the house for about two months I didn’t eat or anything for a

Waking up in the morning going to school was a normal everyday thing, just a normal day of life for a 7th grader. I finally arrived home; it was confusing seeing my dad’s car home. It was silent you could hear a pen hit the floor. I go up stairs to see my dad past out on the floor. I froze, and I run towards my dad hoping he was sleeping. When I’m sitting in front of him his breathing was shallow. I try to wake him up, but at first he does not move and then I see his eyes open. I scramble, and try to find my phone to call the police. The lady on the phone ask many so questions in such a short period I could think of the words to answer. After I hang up there is another long silence. Then I hear a siren getting louder and louder as it pulls

I wasn’t able to speak. I could barely even breath. I looked to my left to see tears running down my older sister’s face. She was breathing heavily, mumbling words.I couldn’t catch what she was exactly saying, though. I looked her over, checking for any injuries. I found none, thankfully, and looked outside to see the other car. The lady was okay and unharmed and her car was perfectly fine, not a scratch in sight. I was looking around, as many cars passed by us, slowing down to see the scene and driving over the broken parts on the road. Soon enough, everyone was out of the cars, checking the harm that was just caused not even five minutes ago. The wind still whistling and cars rushed past us. The police was called and soon, the sirens were heard and flashes of red and blue were seen. The officer asked many questions, but i wasn’t paying attention. All that was going through my head was, “oh my gosh, we just crashed.” I saw another flash of blue and red and

Jim, her father, was sick and could no longer take care of himself. As we visited him, he struggled to release words, but did his best to express his love towards Molly. The day following Jim’s visit, we received a phone call. It was as if we could hear the ringing from miles away. Tears of sorrow slowly fell down her cheek as she began to mourn. She could feel her heart thumping and slowly tearing. Someone so significant to her heart was in arm's reach but uncontactable. She glanced up trying to soak in one last look of her father, but she couldn’t see past his intubation. His body sparkled and glistened, but he just a breathing corpse, no longer her father. Her head began to grow heavy, as she collapsed to the floor. She suddenly realized that I was behind her, and scrambled to put her tough mask on. She turned around smiling and stated, “Well, everyone has to go at some point.” We both knew that this time was different though. This time my older sister needed me to be the strong adult for her. I grabbed her arm and pulled her in, not too tight but just enough to let her breath. Soon enough the “mom” of the family was now as weak as a young child. I then knew I needed to build her back up and be her rock, As her black smeared eyes stained my cotton sweater, a fire sparked inside me. I could feel the pain of my family breaking. The feeling was life changing,

My mom would be back from work, at 8. Along with my little sister. When was she going to tell me? I couldn’t not say anything to her about it. I was so mad at her. I wanted to blame her for the divorce. It seemed like she initiated every argument these days. I thought if she would just keep her mouth closed they wouldn’t be so hostile towards each other. My dad loves my mom, I could never imagine him filing for divorce against her. I had butterflies in my stomach when I heard the garage opening. My mom casually walked into my room and said “hi sweetie”, I must have sounded upset because her next words were “What’s wrong?”. She was an expert on my emotions, anytime I was mad or sad she could tell. I felt my bottom lip quiver so I couldn’t reply. After I walked out of my room, I went to her dresser and plopped the yellow envelope in my mom's lap. “Why?” I said, my mom looked defeated, “There are some things that you are going to understand one day Naya” her reply enraged me. I couldn’t hold back the tears. She got off the bed and embraced me. My little sister threw a book from my desk at my mom and screamed “Stop making sister cry mommy”. I couldn’t help but laugh at

I woke up the next morning, and I just knew something was wrong. I got up, looked outside and my beautiful green truck was nowhere to be found. My dad sometimes would take my truck to run errands on the weekend. I was hoping and praying that’s where it was. I opened my door, and heard both my mom’s and dad’s voice. I was starting to panic, so I rushed downstairs. I asked mom and dad where the truck was, and they responded, “It’s totalled, it’s all gone. You were hit by a drunk driver last night. You’re very lucky to still be alive.” I rushed to my room and started to cry. My room felt so hot and humid.

The smell of a dirty old medical facility mixed with the constant noise of beeping coming from throughout the hospital created a very depressing atmosphere. The nurse then led us to the room dad was in. While we were there, the nurse talked for what seemed like 3 years, but I couldn’t stop gazing at my father. He looked like he had gotten in a fight with an angry stray cat! He had cuts on his face and arms, scratches on his leg, and his head was covered in a huge bruise that spanned from his left eyebrow passed his hairline. He had an IV hooked up to his wrist and an oxygen tube set up to his nostrils. I had never seen him like this before. I couldn’t express how I felt into words. I felt the tears forming back in my eye again, but this time I didn’t hold anything back. My eyes were waterfalls streaming down my expressionless red face.

I rushed down the stairs behind my mom with Sophie following closely behind me. I hopped into the front seat before Sophie, the trivial fact of ‘shotgun’ forgotten. The ride there was quiet, except for my sniffling. I have always been a baby, and I have cried for the simplest things. But when we got there, my eyes were dry and so was my mouth. I couldn’t speak and I couldn’t breathe. My dad was sitting on the side of the road, his motorcycle laying chipped apart ahead of him. The huge red motorcycle that was shiny and impeccable, now lay dented and chipped on its side. My mom put the car in park and hopped out. My Dad didn’t want all the drama associated with the rescue squad coming, and he was at least 2 minutes away from the hospital. So he didn’t want to call anyone.