I laid on my bed staring at the ceiling I was just going over certain things. Namely the argument dad and I had just had. But also back to two years ago. I could remember the day so clearly as if it had only just happened, and I’m sure I just feel worse each time I think about it. My mind was showing it to me in the order it happened, which I suppose was the way it makes the most sense, I just wish I could block it out. I didn’t want to relive it again, especially not right now.
“Dad! Hurry up. I’m hungry!” I complained again as he casually strolled up the street, walking back from Mike’s house.
“What’s the rush?! You’re always speeding off. Why can’t you just… well, slow it down a bit!” he chuckled at me before continuing his casual stroll up the road, whistling the tune of ‘The Great Escape’.
We finally got back, and my dad unlocked the door, leaving me to walk in behind and shut it. I turned around and walked straight into my dad’s back. He was stopped dead in front of me, blocking the hallway almost completely.
“Dad? Helloo?”
“F-Frankie. I need you to promise me something.”
“O.k...?”
He turned around. He had tears shining in his eyes, and that really scared me. He put his hands on my shoulders and gripped them quite tightly.
“I need you to go back to Mike’s house. Run there and stay there. Please don’t ask why. Just stay there until I call Mike and explain. Please just go.”
I was utterly confused, but after years of questioning, I knew my dad didn’t say this stuff if he didn’t have a good reason. I left the house again and ran around the corner to Mike’s, thanking god that he didn’t live miles away.
I knocked and waited for Mike to answer.
“Hey kiddo, you forget something?” I shook my head, trying to catch my breath. “What’s up?" He sounded slightly concerned now.
“I don’t know.” I mumbled. Apparently something from the look on my face told Mike how I was feeling, as he pulled me into a tight hug. I was scared, just at the fact my dad had been about to cry. He never cries, unless something really bad has happened; that’s how I know something was wrong. I told Mike what had happened as he sat me down in the den and gave me a glass of water, my hands were shaking from running as far as I did and from the worry that was taking over my mind.
We sat in silence. Mike put on the TV to try and keep us occupied, but I couldn’t watch it, and I could tell he couldn’t either; he kept glancing over at me. It seemed like an eternity before my dad finally rang Mike. Mike took the phone in the kitchen while he was talking, but I heard a bit of what he was saying.
“Oh shit… Shall I tell her? … Ok, we’ll just meet you there. Don’t worry Bill. I’m sure it will be ok.”
That really doesn’t sound good.
“Frankie? We’d better go.”He said as he walked back into the room. It was his turn for his hands to shake, his face was suddenly pale and it was really freaking me out.
“Where?”
“…Hospital.”
“What happened?” I asked, following him out to his car.
“Maybe we should wait until we get there.”
“Mike! I don’t care who tells me, or when. Just tell me what the hell’s going on!” I practically screamed at him. His hands tightened on the wheel.
