Hey Guys, Dana here. So I'm writing after Hope and I gave you guys a nice, long chapter because these were all the details, pretty much, that needed to come in the beginning. So hold on tight, this is gonna be a long journey we're taking you on!
Enjoy, loves!
BTW the awesome character banner at the right was made by @xDemonsFlowerx
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I lay on my bed, my iPod Touch, 5Gen high above my face. I was busy playing Temple Run. God, that game is so addicting! Good thing, or else I'd never have anything to do. I'm 15 years old, I have no friends, whatsoever and my dad is too weak to do anything with me lately. I'm really concerned about him.
I check Facebook every so often. I may have three hundred fifty-one friends, but that's just because everyone in my school added me so their list would be one friend bigger. My dad doesn't have a Facebook and my grandma rarely checks her own.
I became curious suddenly. What if my mom has a Facebook? There's only one way to find out. I typed in her first name, Sara. As you can pretty much guess, thousands of Sara's showed up on screen. I knew this was pretty much hopeless, but hey, what do I have to do that's better? Besides continue to play temple run...
I began scrolling through the Sara's. None of them resembled my mother. A few live close by but I didn't care to open any of them because I knew it would be a waste of my time. On page two, a Sara with blonde hair turning slightly grey caught my eye. I knew my mom was about 40 years old. Was this her?
I opened to her Facebook page, it's not private so apparently anyone can view everything she's posted. I wandered into the "about" tab. Her birthday is 7/2/1973 but I, of course, couldn't go off that, though that did say she was forty. But I was six, I don't know when her birthday is.
She didn't put much in the description:
"Mother of 2
1 teenager whom I miss dearly, and my baby boy Jacob. I am currently engaged and can't wait to get this party started!"
My gut told me this was her, though I'm not completely sure. One sentence slipped out of my mouth from the shock, though. "I have a baby brother." After a few minutes of silence and much thought, I heard a thud come from downstairs.
I flinched in my seat, standing up quick. "Dad?" I called, opening my door slightly. "Dad? Are you okay?" I stepped outside my door and closed it nervously. A soft moan echoed through the house. "Dad!" I rushed down the stairs to my left.
When I met the foot of the stairs, my dad was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he was in the kitchen. I stepped through the kitchen door to find the kitchen was empty as well. I wouldn't think he's in the living room. He doesn't spend much time in there, so my last option is Dad's office. I tip-toed over to the closed door that was a mere foot from me. My breathing was heavy. "Dad?" I knocked. All I got in reply was another moan.
I grabbed the knob and pushed the door open slowly. I gasped when I saw my dad on the floor. "Dad!" I began to cry, seeing his crippled body strewn across his small office. "Are you okay? What happened?!"
"Alexis..." He whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't want to worry you." He spoke in a weak voice.
"Dad, what's going on?"
He just gave me a sad smile in return. " I love you, Lex." He whispered, holding my hand, moving it towards his face to kiss.
I could hear his breathing begin to become scarce. I began to panic. "No. No! Dad! What's going on? What happened to you? Hang on, stay with me!" I rushed over to the phone, tears cascading down my cheeks rapidly. I quickly dialed the numbers 9-1-1.
An officer answered after the second ring. "Hello?"
"Hello?" I almost screamed. "I'm at home, alone with my dad! He's on the floor and barely breathing! Please! Can you help?"
The officer responded, "Calm down, sweetie. I need your age, name, and address."
"I'm fifteen. My name is Alexis Emerson and I live on two twenty-six Caravaan Trail. Please hurry!"
The police and an ambulance finally arrived after about fifteen minutes. I was curled up next to my father, holding his head on my lap when I heard a knock at the door.
"Come in." I answered, my voice failing on me.
"Where is your dad?" The man who first entered my house asked.
"Through the kitchen, into the mini hall on the right. The door on the left." I hiccuped throughout my directions. The cop hurried past me along with a group of nurses carrying a stretcher.
A tall, blonde woman walked in after them. "Hello, sweetie." She greeted me. "I take it you're the daughter of our victim?"
"Yes." I whispered.
"Alright. And what is your name?"
"Lexi."
"Okay, Lexi. Let's go take a seat." She led me over to the couch sitting to the left of the coffee table. She sat there and I uncomfortably moved over to the couch on the right side of the coffee table. "Is it just you and your dad living here?"
"Yes."
"Do you have any other close relatives?"
"There's my grandma. But we have almost no contact. Then...there's my mom. She left us nine years ago in a depression from her miscarriage."
"Oh. Well, I'm sorry." The officer said firmly, trying to sound like she cared. But she obviously didn't. I looked up, noticing my dad being pulled out on the stretcher they brought in earlier.
I proceeded to stand up and follow them, but the officer sat me back down by pushing down on my shoulders.
"What are you doing? I have to go see him!" I said, almost screaming.
"There is something you need to know about your dad..." The officer looked at me with a very serious face. Her eyes forcing their way into mine. The officer continued. "A few months back, the same situation had happened with your dad. He called us up, afraid something was wrong. We took him to the hospital and confirmed he had prostate cancer. Our best doctors and nurses had hurried to try to cure him, but before anyone could touch him, he simply said he didn't want to be cured. He demanded it. He said he didn't believe in using medicines to cure illnesses. If it is his time, if he is sick he wants to either get better naturally or die. He refused all our offers. We didn't want to see a patient die when we knew we could cure him. He wouldn't even accept our offer of curing him only at a one hundred dollar charge when generally it costs thousands of dollars to be cured. But he wouldn't accept. We were so desperate to cure him. And I feel hurt knowing that he is about to die and you had no idea it was coming."
I let out a whimper. "So...he's going to die...now?"
"I'm afraid so. Do you want to accompany him to the hospital or stay here and wait for the news?"
"I'm going, of course." I stated as if it were obvious. If he's going to die, this will be the last chance I have to say goodbye.
At the hospital, I was allowed my time to say all that I wanted to. I held my dads hand to my face. All that escaped my mouth, "I love you, dad." A small tear rolled down my cheek, stopping at my dad's finger. He lifted his finger, gently to wipe my tear away. But him doing so, only caused me to cry more. I saw him give me a small, closed mouth smile when the heart scanner began to slow with the beeps.