Chapter 41

138 5 6
                                    

"We know you're the AIDS kid," the eighth grader in front of me said.

"Why would you say that?" I asked.

"We just know. I'm not telling you how we know but we do."

"I don't see how it's any of your business," I said.

"Jess?" Paige said. "Come on, let's go."

"You're not going anywhere," the eighth grader said, pushing me up against the school wall.

"Let her go!" Paige cried.

"Shut up!" The eighth grader spat at Paige.

"I'm not going to let you put my brother and his friends at risk you little shit," he said to me, then punched me in the stomach. Hard. I went down on my knees holding my middle.

His friends joined in and started kicking and punching me. I tried to keep my arms up to protect my head, but someone kicked my right arm so hard I felt the bone break.

Paige was screaming for them to stop. I heard someone say they were getting a teacher and then I felt something connect with my head and I didn't hear or feel anything anymore.

———-
"Jessica, don't move," I heard from somewhere far away. "Paige, go to the office, have someone call 911." 

I could hear sounds coming in and out.

"Jessica, can you hear me? It's Mr. Clark."

I tried to open my eyes, but I didn't it seem to have control over my body. Breathing hurt and was hard to do. Finally, I just succumbed to the dark.

————
"13 year old, AIDS positive, was beaten up at school. Field assessment found broken ribs, broken right arm, a suspected skull injury, suspected punctured lung.  Patient has not regained consciousness," I heard.

My eyes were opened and lights shone in them. I had no control over anything. I was starting to feel pain, but couldn't react to it. Breathing was easier and I didn't know how.

I was lifted from one place to another and the pain was so intense, I passed out again.

————
Sarah's POV

Jessica wasn't at the front of the school when I pulled up. Neither was Paige, who she usually walked out with at the end of the day. I watched as kids got on busses and into their parents cars, and still no Jessica. I called her cell phone. She's probably gotten some extra help with a teacher or something.

Just then, an ambulance pulled up to the school as the principal came outside. She looked over at my car, spoke to the paramedics and then came over to my car.

"Mrs Urie, I was just about to call you," she said. She looked very upset.

"What's happened?" I asked.

"There's been an - incident," she started.

"Is Jessica okay? What happened? Why is there an ambulance here?" I was starting to panic. The principal wouldn't come tell me there was an incident that didn't involve my kid, would she?

"I'm sorry," she said. "It seems an eighth grader figured out Jessica's diagnosis and confronted her. He and his friends then assaulted Jessica and beat her up pretty badly. Mr. Clark was able to stop them and had Jessica's friend Paige come tell us and call 911."

I was stunned.

"But she's alright, right?" I asked.

"She's unconscious and having trouble breathing," Ms. Abigail said.

I turned off my car and ran towards the back of the school where the paramedics had gone. Ms. Abigail called out to me but I had to get to my daughter.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the paramedics lifting my broken and bleeding daughter onto a gurney. There was so much blood. So many cuts. I ran over to them.

"Ma'am, we have to go,"

"This is my daughter!" I cried. "What happened?! Jessica!  It's Mom. Honey, open your eyes!  Oh, your poor face! Your poor arm! Is she going to be alright?"

"We have to get her to the hospital, ma'am. She's pretty badly beaten up. Let us get her to the hospital."

"Can I come with you?  She's going to be so scared when she wakes up," I said.

"I'm sorry. We can't bring you in the ambulance. But you can follow us. We're heading to Cedar-Sinai."

They took my daughter away.

I crumpled to the ground. My daughter. What did those kids do to her?  Why?

"Mrs Urie?" A male voice said and a hand touched my shoulder. I looked up.

"Hi, I'm Patrick Clark, Jessica's English teacher. You shouldn't drive yourself. Would you like me to drive you?"

I nodded and handed him my car keys. He helped me up and we hurried to my car. The ambulance was just pulling away.

I hopped into the passenger seat and Patrick got in the driver's seat. I couldn't focus on what he was saying. All I could focus on was the siren and flashing lights of the ambulance ahead of us.

We pulled into the hospital right behind the ambulance. As soon as Patrick stopped the car I jumped out and followed Jessica's gurney into the emergency room.

They rolled her into a room and I was held back by someone. A nurse I think.

"That's my daughter. I have to be with her!" I cried.

"Let the doctors assess her and see what's what, and then you can be with her, okay?  The doctors need to fix her up a bit first."

She led me to a chair and sat me down.

"Is there anyone I can call for you?" She asked.

"Kala," I said. I opened my phone and pressed her number.

"Hello?" She said, her voice bright. "Hey Gorgeous. What's up?"

I broke down and started sputtering words.

"Jessica, beat up, hospital."

"Sarah, what? I can't understand you. What happened?"

The nurse gently took the phone from me.

"Hello. My name is Pamela Smith. I'm a nurse here at Cedar-Sinai in the Emergency Department. We have Mrs. Urie's daughter here and we're hoping perhaps you'd be able to come keep Mrs. Urie company?"

"Oh my god!!  What happened? Yes!  Of course!! I'll be right there!!"

The nurse put my phone back in my hand.

"Mrs. Urie, your friend is going to come be with you, but until then, I'll stay with you, if that's okay."

I nodded. What else could I do?

"I can sit with her, if you've got somewhere to be," a voice said.

"Are you family?"

"No. I'm Jessica's teacher. I brought Mrs. Urie here,"

"You're welcome to stay as well. I'll stay unless I get called away. At least I'll know she's not alone if her friend hasn't come and I do get called away,"

This conversation went mostly over my head. All I knew was there were people sitting beside me. But all I could think of was my daughter, bruised, bloody, beaten, in the other room.

AdoptedWhere stories live. Discover now