Diner Girl! (IN THE PROCESS OF EDITING!)

Chapter Eight: Family Comes First

Hey guys, this is the third-time updated version of chapter eight but it's still a pretty emotional chapter. Not all chapters will be like this though, just thought I'd say. Anyway, enjoy the chapter! If possible, remember to check out the questions section down the bottom, and remember that I always value your answers, so don't forget to comment with your answers. Also, thank you for 28K reads (I'm pretty sure I've said that before, but it's necessary) and for all of your fabulous support! Don't forget to comment, vote and follow. Thanks! -Elisha122! :)

Chapter Eight: Family Comes First

We finally landed in Texas, after the exhausting, thought-consuming, long hauled flight attached with nothing but silence. I think Aaron was too nervous to say a thing, worried about how I would reply. I didn't say one thing to him the entire flight either - I just sat trying I make sense of everything, with my headphones clutching my ears, wrapping my hair around my face to hide my tears. I probably should have shown them, but I didn't want Aaron to comment on them, so I kept their identity hidden. My gaze was focused on the small, ventilating window throughout the whole flight - Even though I knew all hope as lost, I wanted to find something that would show me that I was wrong, improve the impossible. But nothing could be seen from afar. Even though we were mainly drifting through fluffy candy-floss most of the flight. I suppose I wanted to be a fighter, make everything right but stay true to myself as I do that. Perhaps I was being a little hopeful, but at least it was something to hold onto.

We evacuated from the jet. Stepping out into the hot, sticky, humid air that Texas always carried made me feel slightly better. Even though everything was falling apart, returning back home reminded me of where I came from and why I needed to be strong. For me, and for my father.

We got a Taxi from the airport. Some man named 'Clive' drove us, he wouldn't stop talking the entire ride. He seemed genuine and reasonably friendly but the one thing I could think of is that my father was stuck in some hospital bed, surrounded by strangers. He needed his family around him and the one and only thing I needed was to know that he was going to be OK.

He dropped us at the hospital nearest to my hometown- St Gabriel's. Even though I was closer to him, I didn't feel much better. I couldn't remove the image for my mind of my father lying there defenceless, weak and alone. It was unbearable - dreadful to think of.

We scurried through the wards, speaking to doctors, nurses and consultants asking where he was. They wouldn't give out any confidential information though until I confirmed that I was in fact his biological daughter.

We finally found the main reception and we stood in line for minutes, just waiting to be served. Just knowing that the tons of other people around us felt the same made me feel sympathetic, but worse. Hospitals are awful places, I learnt that the hard way.

Aaron grabbed my hand, giving a tight squeeze of reassurance, "Don't worry Lo, everything will be fine." His eyes bored into mine and he clutched my hand tighter.

I couldn't bring myself to say a thing, I just let a tear fall from my eye but them wiped it away and told myself I needed to be strong, again. It was the only way I'd get through this.

Finally, it was our turn to talk to the receptionist.

"Can I help you?" She asked with one of those fake smiles I despise more than anything. She wore that fake tan that teenagers use to make themselves look like plastic orang-utans and long, spider-embedded eyelashes that looked like they'd been taken from a Halloween costume.

"I need to know where Mark Haster is being treated."

She nodded, typing into her computer slowly, clearly trying her best to frustrate me. "Are you family?"

"Seriously, what do you think? We both have the same colour hair, the same colour eyes and the same surname. We're practically lookalikes!" I snapped. The woman gave me an intimidating glare which really should have been coming from me.

Aaron filled in for me, trying to repair what I had just broken, "She is Mark's daughter - Lola Haster."

She rolled her eyes repetitively and they were beginning to look like twisting bowling balls, flying down an alley, into the bunker, "He's on ward 39, the doctors will speak to you there and confirm your relation to Mark, Lola."

Aaron nodded and I instantly left, hurrying over to ward 39, whatever and wherever this ward may be. The only thing that seemed to guide us were the shades blue signs and our own instincts.

When we arrived I couldn't see my father. A part of me felt like I'd let him slip away- like I'd lost a child I was supposed to be caring for. What if he ran away? What if they transferred him to another ward? What if he discharged himself? There were endless possibilities, things I couldn't even bear to think of.

I was on the breaking point, about to lose every tiny inch of hope I had until Aaron said rather declaratively, "There he is!"

Following his gaze, I spotted my father, lying his head against a white, cotton pillow fast asleep. Tubes surrounded him and he was attached to a drip. Just seeing him in pain changed me - I became shaky and unable. This experience was just too close to home. I dropped to the floor a couple of seconds after my mad panic and kneeled, watching him as he slept innocently, unaware that he was in this condition. Unaware of every disaster that life brung.

Aaron didn't do a thing but let me take deep exhalations and inhalations before he helped me to my feet and we proceeded, taking small steps towards the hospital bed he lay on. I didn't want to move too fast, because I feared that if I did I may lose him.

"Excuse me," started a woman, as we were inches from him, his lifeless body. She stood in front of us, blocking us from his view.

"Yes?" I snapped, looking over her shoulder and keeping my eyes on my father, contemplating if I should just bat her out of the way and get to him immediately.

"Young lady, may I ask who you are and why you are visiting Mark?" She was one of those barbie-doll looking girls, with tons of makeup and a fake personality - I knew already. Seriously, how many did this hospital have? You would have thought Texas would be different, but no. It was full of all different kinds of people, just like my trip to LA.

"I'm Lola Haster, his only daughter, excuse me..." I scurried around her and ran towards my father, clutching his hand, "I'll never let go," I said, "I'll never let go dad!"