A Solitary Heart: Book One

Chapter Twenty-One

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Chapter Twenty-One

Sitting in the ER waiting room, the sick, dying people all around me, I tried to ignore the hospital smell while my brain revived an unwanted memory that I'd attempted to dismiss from my mind.

My mother, completely beside herself, unable to speak. My sister, staring at the wall, seemingly emotionless. With me sitting next to them, trying to remain strong, trying to hold myself together as we waited in the same ER to hear about the fate of my father's life that we would learn was fatal. My dad was dead. Gone. Worm food.

Hearing those devastating words that I never thought I would hear, "We did everything we could, but..."

Then my mother's tear streaked face and scream in my ear. Chloe's terrifying, vacant expression. She didn't speak for months afterwards.

And at that moment, I hated myself for hating him. Being angry at him for abandoning my family. How did this happen? He knew what he was doing. He should have stopped this from happening. It shouldn't have happened. It was his fault. He was supposed to protect us.

That empty feeling returned to me. The darkness from inside me that told me nothing in life mattered. That monster in my soul that screamed that I was worthless.

Waiting for Graham's fate, these memories and feelings closed in on me. It took my sister running down the hall toward me to bring me back to reality. The dreadful reality that it was.

"Mia!" She called as she approached. I stood up from the green wool covered chair to greet her, "I came as soon as I could. How's he doing?" She asked as she took her hands in mine, squeezing them.

I gulped, a tightness in my throat that I didn't want to let escape, "I don't know. He's still in surgery." After the police had finished interrogating me – no, I don't know anything. No, I wasn't in the room when it happened. No, I don't know anyone who would want to hurt Graham – they'd mumbled something about a "pressure wave trauma." Whatever the hell that meant. Graham's mother and father sat in the waiting room with me, silent, scrutinizing, and making me feel awkward. Their judging stares and grimaces made me feel like I shouldn't have even been there. I'd never met Graham's mother before and I was suddenly grateful for that.

"I'm so sorry, Mia," my sister said, expressing her condolence. "I'll stay here with you as long as you need, alright?" I needed you to be supportive like this when dad died.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

My little sister sat next to me for an hour as I grilled every doctor that walked by for information. Most of them didn't know anything or just plain couldn't tell me because there evidently wasn't anything to tell. I didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. Finally I jumped up shaking, Graham's parents and Chloe following, as the doctor who was working on Graham came out and approached us.

"Are you waiting for Graham Johnston?" He questioned seriously.

All of us nodded in unison, "How is he?" Graham's mom asked, worry in her voice.

"He suffered some internal injuries. From the pressure wave of the explosive, he acquired a couple cracked ribs which caused a minor laceration to the superior portion of his left kidney. Thankfully it was less than a centimetre deep and could have been much worse. Graham is a lucky man. We were able to repair the damage and he's now stable and in his own room."

I sighed in relief, "You could have led with the good news," I commented.

Mr. Johnston rubbed his eyes and the doctor held his shoulder, "He will be fine. He'll need some recovery time, of course. Best to keep the media and stress to a minimum."