He wanted to crush the phone that rested in his palm. No one was able to help him. David looked at the room that his daughter rested in. She looked so different. Her hair was pulled back tightly, it was getting in the nurses way, she was pale and grey looking, and she was so thin. He didn't recognize her.
The police couldn't find a lead on the man that did this to her. Actually, they didn't even know if it was a man. They didn't know anything about this case. All the evidence they had was Cara. And she was in a constant sleep.
David dialed roughly at the phone, hit the buttons so hard it looked like they would pop out, and called his mother. He usually called her monthly, always on the same day, at the same time, but right now he needed a parent when he felt like he failed as a parent.
"Hello, Mother." He said. He was given strange looks when he used his native tongue. He continued. "Do you have time to talk?"
"Naoki," She breathed into the phone. "Why have you called so early? Have you been eating well?"
He answered his mother's later question. It made his heart thump when he heard his birth name. Yet he continued and told her what happened to Cara. Soon it wasn't just his mother crying, but him as well.
She cleared her throat. "Eat well. I am coming to America on the first flight."
And she hung up before his protests. David rested his head into his hands and watched his daughter take shallow breaths. This, he knew now, was what hell would be like to the damned.