White *Totally Revising*

Chapter 2

I wake up to my phone ringing.  Moaning I get up and answer it, putting it up to my ear, "Hello?"

It's Peyton.  "Hey Lil, it's me, Peyton.  Listen, I-," she starts, but then stops herself.  "You better just come here.  It's your mom.  She's at the hospital."

Without questioning anything, I hang up, grab the keys, and get in my car.  Driving to the hospital, a million thoughts run through my mind.  Why is my mom in the hospital?  Why is Peyton with her?  What happened?

I don't know.  I don't want to think about it until I get there and within minutes, I arrive.  I shut the car door and head to the front desk of the hospital, trying to maintain my composure.

"Mira Johnson?" Is all I say.

The front desk lady has her glasses on the tip of her nose, what you think a librarian would wear them like.  She looks up at me, keeping her head down, peering over the top of her glasses, practically looking through her eyebrows.

"Room 445."

"Okay, thank you," I say hesitantly.   Then, I rush to the fourth floor and look for room 445.

After passing the room and walking the wrong way without realizing, I turn around and walk the way I came, still looking for room 445.  441, 443, 445.  The odd numbered room are on one side and the evens are on the other.  My mom's room has the door closed, but I can see people through the window frantically running around the room.  I open the door and shove my way through the people. 

"You can't be in here," One of the doctors says to me in a harsh tone and starts pushing me out the door.

I spin to my side, away from the arms trying to shove me out of my mom's room.  "Woah, woah, the front desk lady let me up here.  I'm Mira's daughter."  My voice is firm.  Just like when I was speaking to Jason, I was standing up for myself.

Another doctor comes to me, turns me around, and starts pushing my back, just like the first doctor, trying to shove me out of the room.  "The front desk lady doesn't pay attention to what's going on.  Unfortunately, she's our only front desk lady.  I don't know why the manager won't just hire someone else.  She's horrible.."  This doctor keeps talking to herself about how horrible she thinks the front desk lady is.  I wish I knew her name, so I could stop calling her 'the front desk lady'.  While she's talking to herself still, I spin again and run to my mom.  I grab her hand and kneel down next to her.  These doctors won't pry the desperate daughter right from her mother's grasp, will they?  My mom's eyes are closed.  I want to wake her up, but I'm not sure what happened, so I let her lay there with her hand in mine.

"Mom," Is all I have to say before Peyton starts filling me in.

Peyton chimes in, walking to me from the back corner of the room.  "I came to your house last night, I was supposed to pick up something your mom made for my mom.  I knocked and knocked and knocked, but no one came to the door.  After I tried the doorbell a few times I figured no one was home, but I saw two cars in the driveway.  So, I figured at least someone was home.   I don't know, someone could have gone for a walk or something, but I guess I didn't think of that then.  Anyway, I figured I would try and open the door.  It wasn't locked, so I stepped in."

"Yeah, my mom doesn't like the door locked, in case my dad has one of his 'crazy moments'," I tell Peyton.  

My dad drink a lot.  I mean, a lot.  He gets crazy when we run out of alcohol.  He yells and starts throwing things.  Sometimes he hits my mom and I.  Hard.  One time my mom was knocked out.  I was about seven, but I remember it clear as day.  I didn't really know what to do, so I just left her and she eventually woke up.  She went to the doctor to make sure there wasn't a lot of damage, because she got hit in the head.  There was no damage and she was fine, thank God.  If my dad did something to my mom to hospitalize her, I will hospitalize him.  Who am I kidding?  I've lived in that house.  I've lived in that house for a long while before I left for college this year.  As soon as I could leave that house, I did.  Why?  Because I didn't stand up for myself.  I should have.  I could have.  Then, maybe my mom wouldn't be laying here right now.  If I couldn't stand up for myself then, why would I stand up for myself now?