The Journey: Lost (WATTY AWARDS ROUND 2 FINALIST)

The story is being told in a way that is relatable to everyone, I am just sad that it had to be like this :( Well I hope you enjoyed Chpt. One, but this chapter is more heart breaking than the first. Please enjoy Chapter Two.

~nutter

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Chapter 2:

I flipped open the phone and clicked the green accept button. What was waiting for me on the side could be good or bad. I slowly put the phone up to my ear and began what was the worst conversation ever.

                “Hello?” I asked.

                “Drake, you need to get your brother’s and come back to the hospital,” my mother said in a frantic.

                “What’s happening?” I asked.

                “Dad is dying,” my mother sobbed. “They have him set up on life support but they want to take him off of it.”

                “Wait until we get there,” I said.

                “I’ll try.”

                I closed the phone and turned back to my brother’s. I could feel despair falling over my face yet again. “We need to go,” I said.

                Derek nodded. I looked at the stairs to my left and started walking up them to get Dillon. I took the steps two at a time so I could get to the top faster, and when I was on the first floor I walked to Dillon’s bedroom door and knocked softly.

                “Dillon,” I said to the door. “We need to go to the hospital.”

                The door opened and Dillon stood there eyes red from crying. “He’s dead isn’t he?”

                “Dillon they did everything they could,” I said to him.

                “Whatever,” he said whipping the tears from his eyes. “Let’s just go.” He started walking down stairs and I followed. He may have looked okay on the outside, but on the inside I knew he was screaming.

We arrived at the hospital. We all ran from my car and into the building. We asked doctors and nurses for our father’s room and we eventually found him.

                The room was packed. The family gathered in the room and watched as machines kept my father alive. It was hard for all of us. Nothing seemed to be right anymore.

                Mom and Dillon cried in a corner while the rest of us stood in sorrow. Staring at our lifeless father as his chest slowly moved up and down. His eyes were closed shut and it looked like he was just sleeping, but it was deeper than that.

                “Quite being such a baby Dillon,” Danyal said.

                “Danyal stop!” I whispered in his ear, “This isn’t the time or place for fighting.”

                “Shut up,” he said.

                “What is your problem?”

                “You’re not dad. You don’t call the shots.”