My Abnormal Life

“Maya, go wake up Mom,” I said, stirring the eggs in the pan. I decided to make breakfast since yesterday was so awkward. Maya complied and went to get Mom, who was sleeping in later than usual.

“Essy! Something’s wrong with Mama!”

I dropped the spatula and ran to my mom’s room. She was laying on the bed with her eyes closed, unmoving. To the unsuspecting eye, she would just look like she’s sleeping. But to me, she looked too pale and stiff.

“Mom,” I said, moving closer to her. When I got no response, I shook her shoulders a little. “Mama, wake up.” Still no response. “Maya, go call the cops.”

Maya went and got the phone that was in the kitchen. I heard her dial the number and come back into Mom’s room.

“My mom’s not moving . . . Yes, we tried waking her up . . . No, she was fine yesterday . . . Okay, thank you.” She hung up the phone and moved closer to me. I could tell she was close to freaking out, so I had to stay calm for the both of us. “They said they’ll be here soon.” I nodded and hugged her closer to me.

~
The hospital reeked of death. It was uncomfortable, to say the least. The walls were a terrible off-white color that made me even more depressed. We’ve been waiting what seemed like hours, but in reality it was only probably an hour. Maya was pacing while I sat in the most uncomfortable chair known to man. I just got back from a coffee run, cradling the hot cup in my hands. My leg wouldn’t stop bouncing, and I didn’t know if it was from the caffeine or the fact that I was nervous.

When the doctor came out, Maya and I rushed over to him. He didn’t look at us like our mom died, so I was instantly happy.

“What happened? Is she okay?” Maya asked in a rush.

“Your mother had a stroke.”

“A stroke?” I asked. The doctor nodded and looked between me and my sister sympathetically.

“She’s in a coma, and we don’t know how this happened, so we’ll have to keep her here for examination. Is there anyone you can stay with? A family member?”

I shook my head, not letting the tears slip from my eyes. “My dad left us nine years ago,” I said.

The cop next to him decided to jump into the conversation. “Do you have something that we can contact him by?”

“Well, we have a picture of him. That’s all, really.”

“Can I see it?” I nodded and handed him the picture that I took before coming to the hospital. It gave me some sort of comfort knowing I had it. The cop examined the picture for a minute. “Do you know anything else about him? Do you know his name?”

“Sullivan,” Maya said, causing me to look at her in shock. “James Sullivan.”