A Picture Changed My Life Forever
Confessions and Changes
When Dana left, Mikey got a call from Alicia. "Hey babe. No, the photographer isn't here yet. I'm with his daughter who's great fun to be with. Mm, no, she let us stay in the guest room. Because Frank got us kicked out of the hotel we were in"----here I heard Alicia laughing----"Yeah, we're not mad at him. I preffer Sam's house than the hotel anyway. Okay, babe. Love you too."
Gerard snickered. "Little brother's so sweet."
At that moment, I noticed something....
Dad.
"Oh no..." I began, but the phone had to ring as if on cue. The phone was in the kitchen. I walked in that direction when Ray ran to the phone and answered it. "Hello, Sanders' residence," he said. "Oh, Mr. Sanders. We're terribly sorry, but we had to crash here for the night. Frank got us kicked out of the hotel and the air-conditioning of our bus is broken and t was terribly hot in there. Yeah, Sam's safe. Gee was on complete night-gaurd. Do we still have the photoshoot later? Yes? Okay. I'll tell the boys. Here's Sam, Mr. Sanders."
He gave me the phone and whispered, "Your dad sounds like he's been crying. Better cheer him up." He walked to the living room and got tackled by Frank. The band burst into hysterics. I bit back a laugh and put the phone to my ear.
"Dad?" I said.
"Hey, honey," he said soothingly. Ray's right. His voice sounded hoarse.
"Where were you?"
"In the hospital, honey. I---"
"Are you hurt, Dad? Were you in a car accident?"
"Oh, no. Not me. Your Mom and your brother."
"MOM AND PHIL WERE IN A CAR ACCIDENT?!" I screamed. I almost dropped the phone. "How are they? Are they okay? Do they need surgery?"
"Phil's okay, Sam. It's your Mom. Come to the hospital and look for Melinda Sanders. And thank Gerard for me please. For looking after you. Alright, honey, I have to go. Love you."
That's when the line clicked.
I put the phone down. More like banged it. I walked up the stairs with some violent sobs here and there. I changed into outdoor clothes and walked back to the living room.
It looked like Ray told the rest about Dad. Frank came to me and hugged me. "It's going to be okay, whatever it is. What happened, anyway?"
After Frank released me, Bob sat me beside him and put an arm around me.
Then I burst into even more violent sobs on his shoulder. "Mom and Phil, my older brother, were in a car accident, which is why Dad left last night. He went to the hospital to visit them. Phil's okay, but Mom isn't. What if she needs surgery?"
Gerard took me into his arms and hugged me tightly. "Dad says thanks for looking after me," I mumbled. He grinned. "Could any of you drive me to the hospital?"
"Yeah, I think we could take the tourbus. I went in there awhile ago to get my toothbrush and some sushi from the fridge, and the air-conditioning was working," Mikey said patting my back.
"Thanks."
The tourbus was huge. And nicely furnished. It actually looked like a house on wheels minus the pointy roof. The bunk room, the TV/PS2/XBOX room, the kitchen, the bathroom and the studio. Mmm.
When I asked Bob who was driving, he said, "The same guy who fixed the AC." Not exactly what I call a good answer, but... good enough.
"How you doing, Sam?" Ray asked, he sat beside me on one of the red beanbags infront of the TV. Frank and Bob were playing this racing thingy and the rhythm guitarist was winning.
"I'm not okay, I promise," said I with a tiny grin on my face.
"I WON! Pay up, you squid," demanded Frank.
Bob threw his hands in the air and gave Frank the Skittles in the blue wraper. I think it was that Tropical flavored one.
"I told the driver that we were heading to the hospital," announced the lead singer slash lyricist.
"Thank you." I can't tell you how much I appreciate what they're doing.
"No problem."
For the next 20 minutes (it was traffic, and the hospital was pretty distant), I watched Frank challenge band memeber after band member and win every time. Frank always called the loser squid or midget or... whatever popped in that Skittles-loving brain of his.
When we got to the hospital, I asked the receptionist person (or whatever you call her) where Melinda Sanders' room was.
She looked at me with sympathy and said, "Room 308. Are you her daughter?"
Frank was feeling sarcastic and muttered, "No, you dumb butt, I am," under his breath. Which got me giggling.
"Yeah, I'm her daughter. Thanks," I told the Girl Behind The Desk.
We took the elevator to the third floor and split up to look for the eight room.
"Here it is!" called Bob, swinging his right arm.
I ran over to him and knocked on the door. I openned it and saw Phil and Dad sitting on either corner of Mom's bed. Mom's eyes were closed.
"Honey," Dad gave me a bear hug. "Thanks, boys, for brining her here."
They smiled, of course, taking in the appreciation. "We'll be outside if you need us, Sam," Mikey said.
I nodded. They walked out the door and I looked at Phil who was staring hard at me. "Since when do you hang out with My Chem, you loser?" he asked.
"Since yesterday. And if you weren't with your girlfriend all the time, you'd know that Dad had a photoshoot with them yesterday," I replied.
Dad looked at me and then at Mom, then at me again.
I tried to ignore his looks when a doctor came in. "Hey, doc," I said. I grinned hopefully. "Mom doesn't need surgery, does she?" I said.
Yeah, you could guess by now. I'm terrified of surgery. And needles. Gah.
"No, your mom doesn't need surgery, of course," Dr. Phil said. Yes, I'm serious. His name was Phil. I grinned wider and I was about to hug Dad when he continued, "Because she's already had surgery... and... she didn't make it."
The words echoed around my head.
Mom didn't make it.
My Mom.
Didn't make it.
She was dead.
Gone.
Forever.
I couldn't handle it. I walked slowly to Mom's side, with my fingers trembling. I looked at her with tears in my eyes. So long and goodnight.
When the tears began to spill violently, I ran out the door of the room.
I just ran and ran and ran.
I didn't know where. Because I didn't know anything anymore.
Gerard snickered. "Little brother's so sweet."
At that moment, I noticed something....
Dad.
"Oh no..." I began, but the phone had to ring as if on cue. The phone was in the kitchen. I walked in that direction when Ray ran to the phone and answered it. "Hello, Sanders' residence," he said. "Oh, Mr. Sanders. We're terribly sorry, but we had to crash here for the night. Frank got us kicked out of the hotel and the air-conditioning of our bus is broken and t was terribly hot in there. Yeah, Sam's safe. Gee was on complete night-gaurd. Do we still have the photoshoot later? Yes? Okay. I'll tell the boys. Here's Sam, Mr. Sanders."
He gave me the phone and whispered, "Your dad sounds like he's been crying. Better cheer him up." He walked to the living room and got tackled by Frank. The band burst into hysterics. I bit back a laugh and put the phone to my ear.
"Dad?" I said.
"Hey, honey," he said soothingly. Ray's right. His voice sounded hoarse.
"Where were you?"
"In the hospital, honey. I---"
"Are you hurt, Dad? Were you in a car accident?"
"Oh, no. Not me. Your Mom and your brother."
"MOM AND PHIL WERE IN A CAR ACCIDENT?!" I screamed. I almost dropped the phone. "How are they? Are they okay? Do they need surgery?"
"Phil's okay, Sam. It's your Mom. Come to the hospital and look for Melinda Sanders. And thank Gerard for me please. For looking after you. Alright, honey, I have to go. Love you."
That's when the line clicked.
I put the phone down. More like banged it. I walked up the stairs with some violent sobs here and there. I changed into outdoor clothes and walked back to the living room.
It looked like Ray told the rest about Dad. Frank came to me and hugged me. "It's going to be okay, whatever it is. What happened, anyway?"
After Frank released me, Bob sat me beside him and put an arm around me.
Then I burst into even more violent sobs on his shoulder. "Mom and Phil, my older brother, were in a car accident, which is why Dad left last night. He went to the hospital to visit them. Phil's okay, but Mom isn't. What if she needs surgery?"
Gerard took me into his arms and hugged me tightly. "Dad says thanks for looking after me," I mumbled. He grinned. "Could any of you drive me to the hospital?"
"Yeah, I think we could take the tourbus. I went in there awhile ago to get my toothbrush and some sushi from the fridge, and the air-conditioning was working," Mikey said patting my back.
"Thanks."
The tourbus was huge. And nicely furnished. It actually looked like a house on wheels minus the pointy roof. The bunk room, the TV/PS2/XBOX room, the kitchen, the bathroom and the studio. Mmm.
When I asked Bob who was driving, he said, "The same guy who fixed the AC." Not exactly what I call a good answer, but... good enough.
"How you doing, Sam?" Ray asked, he sat beside me on one of the red beanbags infront of the TV. Frank and Bob were playing this racing thingy and the rhythm guitarist was winning.
"I'm not okay, I promise," said I with a tiny grin on my face.
"I WON! Pay up, you squid," demanded Frank.
Bob threw his hands in the air and gave Frank the Skittles in the blue wraper. I think it was that Tropical flavored one.
"I told the driver that we were heading to the hospital," announced the lead singer slash lyricist.
"Thank you." I can't tell you how much I appreciate what they're doing.
"No problem."
For the next 20 minutes (it was traffic, and the hospital was pretty distant), I watched Frank challenge band memeber after band member and win every time. Frank always called the loser squid or midget or... whatever popped in that Skittles-loving brain of his.
When we got to the hospital, I asked the receptionist person (or whatever you call her) where Melinda Sanders' room was.
She looked at me with sympathy and said, "Room 308. Are you her daughter?"
Frank was feeling sarcastic and muttered, "No, you dumb butt, I am," under his breath. Which got me giggling.
"Yeah, I'm her daughter. Thanks," I told the Girl Behind The Desk.
We took the elevator to the third floor and split up to look for the eight room.
"Here it is!" called Bob, swinging his right arm.
I ran over to him and knocked on the door. I openned it and saw Phil and Dad sitting on either corner of Mom's bed. Mom's eyes were closed.
"Honey," Dad gave me a bear hug. "Thanks, boys, for brining her here."
They smiled, of course, taking in the appreciation. "We'll be outside if you need us, Sam," Mikey said.
I nodded. They walked out the door and I looked at Phil who was staring hard at me. "Since when do you hang out with My Chem, you loser?" he asked.
"Since yesterday. And if you weren't with your girlfriend all the time, you'd know that Dad had a photoshoot with them yesterday," I replied.
Dad looked at me and then at Mom, then at me again.
I tried to ignore his looks when a doctor came in. "Hey, doc," I said. I grinned hopefully. "Mom doesn't need surgery, does she?" I said.
Yeah, you could guess by now. I'm terrified of surgery. And needles. Gah.
"No, your mom doesn't need surgery, of course," Dr. Phil said. Yes, I'm serious. His name was Phil. I grinned wider and I was about to hug Dad when he continued, "Because she's already had surgery... and... she didn't make it."
The words echoed around my head.
Mom didn't make it.
My Mom.
Didn't make it.
She was dead.
Gone.
Forever.
I couldn't handle it. I walked slowly to Mom's side, with my fingers trembling. I looked at her with tears in my eyes. So long and goodnight.
When the tears began to spill violently, I ran out the door of the room.
I just ran and ran and ran.
I didn't know where. Because I didn't know anything anymore.