I woke up to my phone ringing. I looked at my clock before pawing around in my bed to find the buzzing device. 4:14 a.m. Who was calling me at this hour? I found the phone and picked it up. The bright screen was blinding to my tired eyes. It was my mom; the only person I know who sleeps more than I do. I answered the phone and she was sobbing. There were sirens in the background along with what sounded like a jack hammer.
“Bailey, I need you to go to my house and get your little brother ready for school,” she said. “I will call you in a few hours. I love you.”
I quickly agreed without questioning. The panic in her voice made me curious, but also served as a warning not to ask any questions. I gathered my school stuff and a set of clothes, and …show more content…
Was he going to wake up? Would he remember who his family was? The questions were racing in circles through my mind like racecars at the Daytona 500.
I sat silently while my parents bombarded my brother’s surgeon with questions. The surgeon was very patient and helpful. After my parents had asked their millions of questions he led us down another long series of hallways to yet another waiting room. This one was filled with people. It was the intensive care unit waiting room. We sat down and began the waiting process again. Little did we know, we would practically live in the waiting room for the next twelve days.
A petite young woman with large red hair opened the locked doors and yelled my last name. My family began the final walk to be reunited with my brother. She explained that he could hear us, but he would not be able to respond. I glanced around the corner to try to sneak a peak of what was happening inside of his room. The bed was flat; I could hardly see my brother buried under a million blankets. I walked into the dark room, I was expecting it to be quiet, but it was anything but. The beeps from the machines and the whoosh of the ventilator that was keeping him alive. My mom rushed in and grasped my brother’s hand. My dad stood beside me in the doorway. The room had a pungent smell of rubbing alcohol and latex. I walked across the room and took a seat in a cold, wooden chair next to the small window. I looked out and studied the ground below. It was a beautiful, sunny day outside. I sat starring out the window. This chair became my