Ch. 1 – A Miracle

KAGOME POV

For a young girl in grade six I had a perfectly normal life. Both my parents are alive; I have a younger brother to pick on. I was twelve years old which indicates I haven't skipped a grade or been held back a grade either. My birthday is on January 19th so I'm usually one of the elder kids in the class. As always my brother annoys the heck out of me. My parents argue a lot, usually about financial stuff that I attempt to block out. I don't have an iPod, mP3 or any other musical device; something I've wanted for a while but haven't asked because of the money sources. I don't have a camera, or a phone or a boyfriend. I was in grade six and I was glad I didn't have a boyfriend either. This seems like a perfectly normal life right? Exactly. That's what every life seems like at first glance. But you have to get to know a person much better to read between the lines, to read the expressions on their faces and to be friends with them. This story is going to reveal everything about my life and how hectic it has been ever since that particular day in grade six. What happened on that day? My Dad was in the hospital. Not for a common sickness like a cold or a flu. But because he had a heart attack. This one event changed my entire life from a somewhat normal life to a constantly bad life. Get ready for the best ride in town everyone. My life.

Saturday, October 28th 2006

Everyone's letting their tear ducts go dry. No one tries to comfort me after they realize they can not get a reaction out of me. Why can't they get a reaction? It is because I am still in the state of shock. The horrifying shocking truth. My only father in the world may not live another day. Another hour. Another minute. Maybe not even another second.

I haven't said a word since I received the terrible news. I kept my hands folded in my hands to stop the trembling I knew would begin if I took them out of the tight grasp I held right now. I'm looking straight ahead, knowing my eyes are glazed over, seemingly cold and calculated. I wasn't crying; didn't look the least bit sad and of course I wasn't mad at anyone but God. Just last year God tried to take away my life and now He wants another go at another member in my close knit family. No one can tell what I am feeling. I am purposefully keeping my face void of emotion something I had never achieved until this minute.

I feel like sobbing my heart out on my mother's lap. I feel like bawling and screaming my eyes and heart out. But I can't. Grandpa is beside me trying his best to console me even though he was the one I least expected to do so. To even attempt. He knows; he understands what I am feeling. He knows that I am trying to hard not to cry. Trying so hard to be brave, just for my little brother who was in grade three. I vaguely noticed my aunt trying to get to me through the crowd. She sits down and takes my hand. For a second, an abrupt second, I thought she finally understood. Finally another person understands me.

For a second.

Instead she's yelling at me.

"It's all because of YOU! If you noticed earlier, he wouldn't be in a critical condition. If only you checked in on him when he was sleeping in his room. If you weren't playing on the computer. If you took your time to actually turn your head and look at him. But no, you didn't. You were too busy. He cares about you so much, but you're not even letting a tear slip! What are you? An animal?" She yelled her head off.

During her rant she was shaking me, both hands on my shoulders. My mom and uncle are looking at me from the far end of the room. But I can't tell what they are thinking. 'An animal has feelings. Don't compare those poor things to me. I don't have any feelings. At the moment.' I thought.

[({..**..})]

Finally, finally the doctor came.

"Mr. Santome came from his helicopter. He is inside the building. He can cure anyone at any critical condition." These doctors are praising Mr. Santome's talents, I realize. I feel a bit of hope spark within.

The doctors continued. "But, your husband only has about 5 – 10% chances of living."

It vanished.

Grandpa held my hand tighter.

For some reason, as if my mind lost hope, I suddenly had flashbacks of our time together.

On all of our trips. Our hugs. Our quality times. Everything was running through my mind.

[({..**..})]

The doctor entered the room gracefully. He took a hold of my mother's hands and clasped it tightly and shook it for a long time. His head was facing downwards and I thought the worst possible thing.

On the contrary he said, "Congratulations. Your husband has survived." Everyone was quiet. They turned to look at me. They expected a reaction. And I gave them one. Unexpected, no?

I ripped my hand out of my grandpa's vice tight grip and released my grasp on the arm of the chair and started crying once I covered my face. I heard everyone's gasps echo around in the small room. I envisioned all of their faces in my mind's eye. I uncovered my face and let them see what they wanted to see. A smile and tears of happiness; tears of undying joy. I saw a flash of understanding go through my mom's, aunt's and uncle's eyes. It disappeared. The smiled at me softly, my aunts' of regret and guilt. They understood.

But has everyone else? Fortunately they do, unless I want them to go around telling stories to my future cousins that I'm a heartless twit. It's either that or I beat them to a pulp. Ahhh…my humour has returned…