Let's Play a Game

Let's Play a Game (2)

When I finally opened my eyes, the first thing I could focus on was a white ceiling. And then all I could focus on was how I couldn’t feel my right arm whatsoever. It was completely numb.

I groaned as I used my hand to rub my numb arm, only to notice that my entire bicep was wrapped in gauze.

“What the hell?” I muttered, now looking around to see that I was in a hospital room. “What… why am I here?”

“You’re awake,” a new voice now said, and I looked over to see my father smiling down at me. “I’m surprised it didn’t take you longer, since you always take forever to get up in the morning for school.”

“Dad,” I gasped, sitting up in my uncomfortable hospital bed and wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “You’re back so soon!”

“I rushed over here as soon as I got the call about what happened,” my father informed me, pushing me away a little so he could look at me. He was frowning now, and all I could do was furrow my eyebrows at him in confusion.

“What… happened?” I asked, looking down at my wrapped bicep. It was so tight that I could barely feel my arm…

“You don’t remember?” my father asked, his eyebrows furrowing now. I now realized that he had tears in his eyes.

I sat there for a moment, trying to think. Only a second later, everything came flashing back to me. My dream, the fire, and how I had burned my arm and passed out on the front lawn.

“Mom!” I shouted, about to push myself off the bed until my father pushed me back down. “Mom, where is she?”

“Maxynn…” my father started slowly, his hands on my shoulders as he held me down on the bed. “Your mother… I’m sorry, Maxynn. Your mother is gone.”

I sat there for a moment, trying to let everything process through my mind. There had been a fire at my house, and my mother was gone. The fire had killed my mother. She was really gone. I was never going to see her again.

I immediately starting bawling, not being able to control my tears from falling. My father hugged me, and I continued sobbing into his shoulder.

Five minutes later, I was still crying loudly as the door opened and someone stepped inside.

“Hank,” the person at the door said, addressing my father. “Is she alright?”

“I’m fine,” I sniffed, even though I really wasn’t. I pushed away from my father to see a man around my father’s age smiling back at me sadly. I hadn’t ever met him before, but my dad seemed to know who he was.

“We don’t know how long the scar will last,” my father began, and I didn’t know if he was talking to me or the man at the door, “The doctors didn’t know if it was bad enough to be permanent, but… it will be around for a while.”

I looked down at the gauze that was covering my burns, not wanting to think about having a scar on my arm for the rest of my life. I quickly looked away, wiping at my eyes as I thought about my mother.

“Maxynn, this is Steve, my best friend from high school,” my father informed me, gesturing to the man at the door, who smiled at me. “He was kind enough to let us live in his house until ours is fixed.”

“What?” I gasped, my eyes widening at my father as I looked back over at him. “Our house? What… what happened to the house?”

“There was a fire, honey,” my father informed me slowly, patting my head as if to check that I didn’t have any brain damage. “The house was on fire…”