Dan was downstairs when he heard Diana scream. His head snapped up from the newspaper that he was reading. Only when he heard another scream, this time from Natalie, did he jump up from his chair. He sprinted up the stairs to find his daughter standing in the doorway of the bathroom, crying. He rushed to the door and pushed Natalie aside, only to see something that would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. His son, his little boy, was lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood. Diana was clinging to him, begging him to wake up. Dan fell to his knees and blindly reached for his son. The only thing that he could think of was no. No. This can't be happening, He was wrenched from his thoughts when Natalie started sobbing. They needed to get help.
"Call 911..." he whispered, "Call 911!" Natalie still didn't move.
"Natalie! Call 911! Do it! NOW!" He screamed at her. She sprinted from the room and Dan collapsed, clinging to his sons body.
. . .
Nancy was having a pretty boring day at work. Then again, boring is good when you're a 911 operator. It was about 8:00pm when she got her first serious call of the night.
"911 what's your emergency?" All she heard was sobbing on the other end of the line.
"Hello? Sweetie, are you all right? Are you hurt?" The girl just kept on crying.
"What happened, sweet heart? Do you need help?" Between sobs the girl managed to choke out 'My brother', 'so much blood', and 'help'.
"It's okay, sweetie. Help is on the way. Where are you at right now?"
"1402 Lancaster Lane." Nancy typed the address into the computer and quickly dispatched an ambuance.
"Do you want me to stay on the phone with you until the ambulance gets there?"
"Please..."
"Okay, Sweetie. You're doing so good. Whats your name Honey?"
"Natalie Goodman."
"Okay, Natalie, the ambulance is on it's way." This seemed to calm Natalie down some.
"Natalie, can you tell me what happened?"
"My brother... he... he..." The sobbing started fresh again. The only thing that Nancy could make out was 'blood' and 'dead'. She heard the sirens a few minutes later.
. . .
The paramedics rushed into 1402 Lancaster Lane. They followed the sound of sobbing upstairs to the bathroom. The parents were clinging to the boy, sobbing while a teenage girl cried in her room. The parents had to be forcibly removed from the boy in order for the paramedics to get to him. The parents struggled and screamed as the paramedics pushed them back. By the time they got to him, his body was already getting cold. He must have been dead for almost an hour before the call was made. The only thing they could do was say that they were sorry and zip up the body in a black polyethylene bag and take it away to the morgue.