Oblivion // Dinger Holfield

Chapter 2

Before I knew it, Sandra and I had met up with my Aunt Kit and Uncle Gus, transferred my belongings into their car, had an emotional goodbye, and then we were off to my new home. Home. If you could even call it that.

I settled into my seat as I looked out of the window, watching everything blur by. "Brandi, you'll tell us when you get hungry, right?" Uncle Gus said, turning the radio off and looking at me through the rear view mirror. I nodded, even though I'd doubt I'd get hungry. I hadn't had an appetite for the longest time. Thinking about food when there was so much more going on seemed wrong. He smiled and turned his eyes back to the road. Uncle Gus was my brother's dad and he was acting as if everything was okay, probably just to reassure me that everything was okay.

I sunk into my seat, suddenly feeling tired from the events of the day. I decided a nap couldn't hurt, plus it'd make the time pass faster.

"Hey!" a nurse yelled after me. "Hey! You're not supposed to go back there!"

I ignored her as I followed the gurney that carried my father turn down a hallway and through a pair of swinging doors. There were so many people crowding around him, that I could barely see his face, but I knew it was him. I jogged to keep up with him as they were going at quite a fast pace. There was so much yelling and shouting, but it was all muffled out by my heart beating so loudly, it was all I could feel and all I could hear, everything else was drained out.

They brought my dad into a room and I skidded to a halt in front of the huge window, looking into the room. My face was pressed against the glass as my hands rested on either side of my face. I watched them as best as I could, although I couldn't see much. They were blocking my view. The only thing I could see was blood. There was blood everywhere.

It felt like I'd stood there for an eternity, waiting for my dad to wake up and for everything to be okay. They had already told me my mom was dead. She had died on impact and there was nothing they could do. My dad was my only hope.

After quite a while, one of the doctors turned and looked up at the wall as they all backed away, silently.

"Time of death, 4:52 A.M." He said, sadly, loud enough for me to hear.

I woke up, startled and my hands flew up to my face, which was damp. I had been crying in my sleep, again. This dream was a recurring one, which was why I had trouble sleeping. I wanted more than anything to forget about that day, but nothing I did or thought would let me.

I looked up at the dashboard of the car, the time read 3:30. It had been a little past 12 when I first fell asleep, which meant I'd slept for almost three hours. That was the longest I'd slept in a few weeks.

"You're awake!" Aunt Kit exclaimed, looking back at me with a smile. "Good timing because, we're almost there."