Broken Hearts

Broken Hearts Part 7

Chapter Seven: Annabelle

I'm jolted awake by the sound of the sirens. Leaping from the bed I start to run down the stairs to get to the basement, only it's too late. The twister is already here. It sounds like a freight train is coming down the street. The windows are shaking and one suddenly breaks when a tricycle comes flying through it. I lose my footing on the stairs and tumble the rest of the way down. Everything goes black.

When I finally start to come to, I'm not sure how much time has passed. I slowly try to open my eyes and I have to rub and pry them open. I pull my hand away and see that I have dried blood caked over my eye. I try to move but realize that a tree has fallen on my house and I'm trapped under the debris and rubble. I take a mental note of my body and everything seems to be okay except for my right arm which is throbbing in pain.

Calling out for help as loud as I can, I wait to see if someone responds. I left my phone upstairs so I can only hope someone comes looking for me. It's still dark outside and the stars are now shining above my head as I look up where my roof once was. Red and blue lights dance across the walls of my now-demolished home and I call out for help again. I start to panic, afraid no one will find me.

Suddenly, I hear someone calling my name. They sound so far away. "Annabelle! Annabelle! Can you hear me? Are you in there? It's Tate!" he yells as he slowly makes his way through the rubble.

I try and take a big gulp of air, "Tate! Tate! I'm in here! I'm trapped! Please help me!" I yell back into the darkness.

A few minutes later a beam of light washes over my face, "Oh my God! Annabelle, are you okay? Can you get up?" Tate asks kneeling beside me.

He tries to lift the debris the tree knocked on me but it's too heavy and he's forced to admit defeat. "I'll go get some help. I promise I'll be right back," he says kissing me.

Tate looks terrified as he leaves me to go for help. "Don't worry, I'll just wait here," I call after him attempting to crack a joke.

I find myself smiling despite the situation I'm in. Tate just kissed me. And he's worried about me. And he came looking to see if I was okay. I have butterflies fluttering in my stomach at the thought of why Tate is here. Within a few minutes, Tate is back with firefighters and paramedics. They get to work at freeing me while they tell me to stay as still as possible.

It takes some time but finally, I'm freed and am placed on a stretcher. The paramedics want to take me to the hospital to get checked out, just to make sure I don't have something more serious than a broken arm. Tate tries to ride in the ambulance with me but they tell him he'll have to follow us to the hospital.

"I'm fine Tate. I'll see you there. Don't worry," I say reassuringly.

He doesn't look convinced. "I'll be right behind you guys," he informs me glaring at the EMT.

The doors close and we head off for the hospital. Tate is left to get back in his truck and follow behind us. I'm still smiling despite the pain. I can tell that he still cares about me. I'm not sure what changed his mind, but I can tell that the Tate that's spent the day with me today is not the Tate that's spent the last eight months hating me.