There's So Many Things That I Want You to Know

Rissa's P.O.V.

"Mom, what's going on?"

"Just get your shoes, Marissa."

"Mom!"

"Marissa Nichole, get your damn shoes on, and get in the truck. Now! I'll be out there in a moment."

I did as directed, stunned. Mom never used profanity unless something was wrong. She came out like she promised. Her driving wasn't normal; she was speeding. Suddenly, when she stopped at the hospital, it clicked.

"My feeling was right. Something bad happened to Ella, didn't it?"

"Just . . . let's go."

Ella was in her own private room, still and pale. I choked on a gasp at the sight. IVs were embedded in her flesh, pumping her body full of pain relievers and fluids. A breathing apparatus was hooked up to allow her to breathe. Unexpectedly, she stirred.

"Ella, oh, my God, baby, are you okay?"

"Where'm I? Who're you?"

"El, that's Mom."

Our mother rocked back on her heels. "I'm gonna call your dad."

Ella coughed, wincing and wheezing. "Mom, stay. I-I'm sorry. I know who you are. I'm . . . I guess I'm in shock."

"I know, baby, but your father needs to know what happened."

"You okay, Ella?" I asked once it was just my sister and me.

"N-no. I hurt."

"I bet. Do you remember what happened?"

"Honestly, no."

'It's okay."

'No, it's not. I should remember!"

"Well, Miss Lyons, you're awake." The doctor checked the stats on the charts before facing us. "You're extremely lucky, young lady. That crash could've killed you. Yet all you got was a broken leg and a few fractured ribs."

"Is that all?" Ella spat sarcastically, painfullym and the doctor laughed.

"You'll be able to leave tomorrow morning. We'll give you a prescription for pain medicine and cruthes. You're a very lucky girl."

I chuckled as my sister stuck her tongue out at the retreating doc's back. "Lucky, but immature."