Ch. 2 Numbness

I was crying into Melissa's shoulder and she was patting my head not sure how to comfort me. I was sobbing and sobbing. The tears would not stop. I didn't know that I had so much water and salt in me. My eyes stung and I tasted salt. Melissa was in shock. My mother was dead, and my father was dieing.

I didn't know why I'm crying because Mom's not dead. She's not dead. She's not dead! SHE IS NOT DEAD! MOM IS NOT DEAD!!!!! NOT! NOT! NOT! NOT DEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It just can't be possible. I expect her to walk through the door any time now.

When Mr. Lewis informed me my parents were currently in the hospital because of a car crash, I hadn't believed him. I asked him how they were and he told me they would be fine, but with a pitying look on his face. That, I hadn't believed either. When I arrived at the hospital, my mom was already dead, and my dad needed surgery.

I was currently sitting in the waiting room because I was not allowed to visit my dad. Tick, tock. The clock went. I resisted the urge to slam my fist into it. I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE FREAKING TIME!!!!! The waiting room had a chemical smell and the white cleanness that made it look like it was being cleaned with a toothbrush and toothpick. There were other people there, too. One man sat in a corner reading a newspaper. A woman sat on a bench with her baby on her lap. And a young man was pacing the room. Melissa and her mom sat next to me.

I had stopped crying. I had finally exhausted the source of my tears. I remembered when I scraped my knee and started crying. Mom would pick me up kiss my booboo and then it was all better. When on my thirteenth birthday my parents let me stay up all night watching PG13 movies with my friends. How my dad would explain complex math problems when I was confused. Never again would my mom bake cookies, or smile at me, or hug me.

A nurse came into the room interrupting my thoughts.

"You may see your father now," she said. My eyesight was blurry. My nose stung from crying and it was running like mad. I tasted blood. I had probably chewed the side of my mouth too much. I heard my steps over the beeping of machines and the shuffling of patients. Click clack. Click clack. Sniff sniff. Click clack. I heard the squeak of a cart full of supplies being pushed by a maid. It was as if my senses were picking up things as usual but it wasn't registering in my brain. It was as if I was watching every thing through a clouded window. I walked into my father's room.

"Mandy," he called me by my child hood name. More memories came sweeping towards me. I pushed them back trying to stay in the present. Tears burst forth again and I ran over to my dad and hugged him as gently as I could, because he looked pale and his facial expression lead me to the conclusion that he was trying to hide from me how much pain he was in.

"Daddy!" We just stayed there listening to each other's breathing. Mine was quick and in gasps, in between sobs and sniffs, while his was ragged and uneven. The hospital went bustling on while we were stuck in the past. Clinging to our last hopes that were fading and becoming weaker all the time. We could have stayed there for months. I didn't know how long we stayed there, actually.

The nurse walked in and smiled at us.

"Your father needs to rest before the surgery," she said to me. I let her lead me out into the waiting room. I was numb. I couldn't feel toes or the tips of my fingers. I sat down again and stared at the white wall. I wasn't thinking. I didn't comprehend anything around me. Some time I must have fallen asleep.

I woke up to a shout. Doctors and nurses were streaming in and out of my father's room. I stared at them uncomprendingly. Then, wham! It hit me. The shouts, the quick, loud beeping, the doctors and nurses running about could only mean one thing. The surgery was not going well. My father was dieing. I was never going to see him again. Never. I had never thought about religion before. But suddenly I hoped there was a God. I hoped there was a life after the one we were currently in.

Ms. Thomas eventually decided I needed rest. I went and stayed the night at Melissa's. On the drive home I stared out of the window. Stores flashed by. I watched them absent mindedly. Melissa and her mom were talking. Nothing they could say would interest me. They couldn't bring Mom back to life. I didn't care about anything else right now. I would never care about anything because she would never come back to life.

I didn't sleep at all during the night. I tossed and turned and tossed and turned. Melissa was laying face up with her eyes open staring at the ceiling. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw mom looking back at me. I would take a deep breath, close my eyes, then fling them open as wide as they could go. Then I'd try again. Finally, I gave up and just sat in the corner watching the clock. Tick, tick, tock, tick. Every tick was a second. Every tick was one of the last seconds my dad had on earth. I had no doubt. He was going to die. I'm not sure when. Well, at least my mind told me so. My heart was in utter denial. Some time later, I was watching the clock tick over and over again, mesmerizing me. Melissa drifted off.

I shivered I felt utterly alone. No one. No one left. The sound of Melissa's deep even breathing lulled me to sleep. I was next to a river and it was very sweet. I was in forest listening to birdcalls and the river while walking down it. The sun felt nice on my back and the smile felt nice on my lips. It was a perfect day. I looked across the river and saw my mom. She had her back to me. "Mom!" I called. She didn't turn around. "Mom!" I called again frustrated. Same results. I tried to jump across the river, but a force held me back. When I tried to jump the woods fell silent, except for a sobbing sound I realized was coming from my mom. I had to get across to comfort her. I tried again; the whole world tuned black and white. The third time I tried I watched in horror as the whole forest started to die. I leaves withered and the flowers wilted. The fourth time I got my wish. I was sailing over the river, but not far enough. I landed in the river with a splash that made no noise. I couldn't swim. I was being swept down the river. Mom couldn't hear my frantic cries that I couldn't even hear myself. And that's when I woke up.

A loud obnoxious sound was in my ears. The telephone. I got up wondering if after all, my dad was going to survive. I walked to the kitchen where the phone was. Ms. Thomas beat me to it.

"Yes," a pause "Oh," another pause. Her face was chock white. She studdered. "I-I-I'll tell her then," she looked at me, "Amanda," she took a deep breathe "You're father is dead." Her breathe was quick and her voice was breathy and quiet. I stared at her unbelieving. How could she joke around like this? I waited for her laugh at her mean joke. He was perfectly fine. I knew it. I would have known if he had died. Wouldn't I? I mean, how could I not? He was my father. "I'm sorry." She whispered. She wasn't joking. Suddenly, I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I was drowning. Drowning in misery and hopelessness. Drowning in loneliness and despair. "And Amanda you're going to Forks to live with your aunt." Oh. With this to think about I went to bed and didn't sleep a wink.

Melissa and I were in her room. It was noon. My brain accepted that they were dead even if my heart didn't. My arm was read and sore from the number of times I had pinched it. I didn't understand why I hadn't woken up yet. It had always worked. Why didn't it now? Unconsciously I raised my arm to pinch it once more but this time Melissa grabbed my hand. Stop doing that. If you don't stop you might permanently injure it somehow. You're not dreaming okay? I looked at her. There were deep bags under her eyes. Apparently I had not been the only one to lie awake last night.

I stood up. "I'm going to get some thing to eat."

She stood up too. "Good idea."

We lay there. Me on my sleeping bag and her on her bed. Tomorrow I was to catch a flight to Seattle, another to Port Angeles, and then drive to Forks. All my stuff was packed up. I waited for sleep to come but it didn't. I lay there and stared into space. It was at least four PM before sleep finally drew me into its clutches. I got up at around five. I walked to the kitchen and got myself cheerios out of habit. I realized I wasn't hungry and threw it away. I felt like I was about to throw up. I took out Wuthering Heights and stared at it awhile. I kept on reading the same sentence over and over again without comprehending it. I didn't get interested at all, which is weird because I'm a big reader and I love Wuthering Heights especially. Finally I went to the living room and watched TV. At first it was some show about a cat and a tortoise becoming friends and then it switched to football, then Family Guy. I was watching a commercial about Windex when Melissa came down. I looked at my watch, six thirty two. She had slept an hour and a half more than me.

She joined me at the couch and we sat in silence watching some show about dog training. We stared at the TV while Melissa tried to make conversation. She was dismally failing.

"So do you know what Forks is like?"

"Yup."

"What is it like?" she persisted.

"Gloomy, dank and dark."

"Oh, isn't is your aunt that lives there?"

"Yup."

"What's she like?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

"Have you ever met her?"

"Yup."

Melissa sighed. "Are you going to actually answer me or just say yup?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

She got up and left.

I shrugged my shoulders again and turned my attention back to the TV.