The Moment of Change

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Chapter Two

 

Willow:

 

I frowned at the dumplings that were now stone cold from waiting, as I grouchily rubbed sleep from my eyes. Pulling out my phone from my pocket I checked the time. He should have been home hours ago.

All traces of dreariness left me as worry pooled in my stomach. He always called when he was going to be late.

Noticing an answer machine message on my mobile, I decided to ignore and try ringing my Uncle before checking it. Running my thumb over my contacts I pressed down on my Uncle’s name and hit ‘call’. It kept ringing through until I got to an answering machine telling me to leave a message.

Feeling my frown deepen I hung up.

Clicking onto my voicemails I heard the dial tone once more, before an electronic voice told me to press one to listen to the message. Angst and anticipation was making my jumpy, and my finger shake as I pressed the button.

“I’m Anne Weathers calling from Saint Margret’s Hospital…”

My mind went fuzzy as I listened to the rest of the message, not moving a muscle even when it ended with a loud beep and the robot voice was back asking me if there was anything else I would like to do.

The words slowly started to sink in a little bit.

Hospital. Car crash. Emergency contact.

My stomach churned heavily.

My Uncle.  Car crash. Hospital.

Suddenly my feet were flying into action. I quickly picked up everything I needed, including my phone keys and purse for a bus.

That was before I realised that I didn’t need a bus, because my Uncle had gotten me a car. That only made my stomach sink further. He had to be okay.

My hands shook as I fumbled to get the doors open and start the car, but once I had managed to get behind the wheel I made it to the hospital in law breaking timing.

Haphazardly parking my car into one of the several empty spaces I jumped out, barely remembering to lock the doors behind me.

I just need to see him, to make sure he was okay.

The automatic doors at the entrance of the hospital didn’t open nearly fast enough for my liking, and it ended up making an unnerving sound as I pushed it open further, faster. I simply ignored it heading straight to the front desk.

“What room is Charles Jamison in?” I asked. I didn’t even recognise my voice as it came out completely weak and frantic. I hadn’t even realised until now what a state I was in.

The nurse behind the desk gave me a warm look, but it did nothing to help me. I just needed to know he was okay.

“What room?” I asked when she didn’t give me an answer right off the bat.

“What relation are you to him?” She asked formerly.

“He’s my Uncle, and guardian.” I said, my fingers tapping shakily against the tabletop between us, impatiently.

Seeming to find that an acceptable answer she began to scroll casually on her computer screen. “He’s in room 203.” She said, calmly.

She didn’t give me any sympathetic looks. That was a good sign right? Not wanting to get my hopes up to have them crash down I pushed the though away, making me way as fast as I could, following the brief directions the lady at the desk had given me.

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