I'm Okay, No, I'm Not (Hope Series, Book #1) TIA Winner (2017) #MedUp

My Father's Getting Help

Oh, Father, bless me, for I am in need of your great help. Josh thought as he walked down the aisle. I know he has "promised" to let us help him, but I'm still afraid of him dying. I know I should not think this way, but I cannot help it. Help me, please, someone. I'm desperate in need of your help.

"I'll help you." A girl said.

"Who are you?" Josh asked, dazed and confused at what he is seeing: a beautiful girl with pearl earrings with blond hair about shoulder length.

"You know who I am, sweetheart." She turned and let me gaze at her.

"A-are you m-my imagination?"

"I have no idea, you tell me." She walked lightly and her dress was bright green with white pearls on her throat.

"O-oh, w-w-" I stood, speechless, flabbergasted at her beauty. "A-again, who are you? Forgive me, but I forget."

"My name is Dana Hutchingson."

Dana Hutchingson, beautiful girl, beautiful name. Exactly where do I know her from? Hmm...School? Mom? Uncle Kenny? Anyway, she's beautiful.

"Justin, I met a girl. Her name is Dana Sara-Rose Mary Hutchingson."

"Awe, that's sweet. I'm happy for you, man." Justin congratulated.

"Thanks. Now, let's go see how Dad's doing."

"Dad?" Ben called. "Where are you?"

"Over here." Dad croaked from sucking down two six beer packs and already smoked two packs of cigarettes in the range of three to four hours.

"Dad! What happened?!" Ben exclaimed.

"I-I..."

Unable to finish his sentence, Dad collapsed on the floor, flat out drunk and cold.

"He's unconscious! Call 911, NOW, BEN!" Cousin John yelled.

"Okay, uh, uh...I'm dialing right now. Uh, hello, officer? We need help right now. Send an ambulance as well, please. 421 Conway Drive. Yes, sir, that's the address. See you in a few minutes."

It was more like seconds. An ambulance blaring loudly, and then suddenly, it stopped. At our house. Our house was very noisy that night, with an ambulance blaring loudly and Dad moaning as well as John and I crying our hearts out. Ben, however, stood very grim faced, a single line that was once curved with a smile, so full of happiness and laughter, had now turned into a bleak and bland straight line that showed no emotion whatsoever. He just stood there, not crying or angry, not a care in the world.

"D-Dad?" I called when Dad was in the ambulance. "It's me, your son, Ben. A-are you o-okay?"

"S-son...C-come closer."

I leaned in really close, so close that I can still smell the whiskey and beer on his breath, as well as cigarettes.

"I-I love y-you."

"I love you too, Dad. Don't worry, we're almost there."

I flung on him, gasping for air, having some sort of an attack; the doctors thought it was mix between shock and an anxiety one, but isn't that normal, to have some sort of an attack when your thirty-three year old father is an ambulance due to basically over drinking and smoking that he's been doing since thirteen?

"Your father's dead." the Dr. said. 

"W-what?" I was flabbergasted, mouth wide open, hoping the words were not for me. Worst night ever. I thought. Really? He's gone? Oh, Doctor Jacobson, whatever shall I do?

"Your father's....Going to need intensive treatment." The Doctor Jacobson.

"Oh, I thought you said something completely different. I'm glad I was wrong." I was so worried that I worked myself into a state.

"How much will he need?" Cousin John asked.

"Much...A lot...Months, many, many months. Say, three to four of intensive treatment, then, we'll see how he is. If not, then cognitive therapy and two other counselors to help him not smoke and drink. How long has he been drinking and smoking, son?"

"I think since he was thirteen. He's thirty-three."

"And is there someone who could take care of you while your father's getting treatment?"

"We have an aunt that lives nearby."

"Good. We need to start treatment immediately. Say your goodbyes for now, son. By the time he gets out of here, he won't touch a cigarette or a drink. I promise you."

He also has a history of broken promises. I thought.

"Yes, Doctor. Come, let's go."

"Goodbye, Dad." Ben started tearing up. "I'll miss you."

"We'll all miss him, but he's getting help and that's important. God, my Heavenly Father, please watch over my uncle. He's sick and needs intensive treatment. May he survive and prosper and won't drink and smoke ever again." Cousin John prayed.

"Amen." Ben and I both said.

Will the father die? Read to find out. Don't forget to vote and comment, please.