What A Rush

Birthdays and a Rising Sun

-Kelley-

December eighth, Emily's birthday. And guess what, she was still sick. It made me feel awful, and I felt so bad for her. Sick on her birthday. She was worse then she was four days ago, and it crushed my heart.

I was waiting for Emily to wake up, sitting in the chair beside our bed. As I was bouncing my knees up and down, Emily's phone rang. Taking it off the bedside table, I saw it was Alex. Answering the phone, I sighed out.

"Hello." I said.

"Kel, where's Emily?" She asked.

"In bed." I mumbled.

"It's her birthday, why isn't she up?"

"Emily is sick, like really sick." I said, rubbing my feet together. 

"What, oh no." Alex said, her voice straining.

"Yah, I can't believe it. I came home four days ago, and found her on the floor. She said she got really dizzy and then fainted. So I put her in bed, and she just got worse over the next few days." I explained.

"Do you think she needs to see a doctor?" Alex asked.

"I don't know, maybe." I mumbled.

"What's wrong?" I heard Tobin's voice in the background.

"Emily's sick." Alex said to her. "Maybe take her to a doctor Kel, just to be safe." Alex told me.

"Yah, I think I will." I said.

"Okay, well tell Emily we say happy birthday. Talk to you later." Alex said.

"Yah, see yah." I said, as I hung up. Looking back at Emily, I saw her pull Nike closer to her. I then saw her eyes flutter open, and a weak smile fall on her face.

"Hey." She rasped out, her voice hoarse and scratchy.

"Hey." I said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Alex and Tobin say happy birthday."

"Right, it's my birthday." She mumbled, as she gave out a rough cough.

"Yah it is. So how about as a spur of the moment birthday present, we go see the doctor." I said.

"I'm fine Kelley." She said, nuzzling her face into Nike's fur.

"Emily, you've been coughing and sneezing up green goo for the past four days. Also, you've started throwing up, and you have awful chills and hot flashes." I told her.

"It's not a big deal." She mumbled.

"Yah, it is. Now come on, we're going to the doctor." I said, as I forced her out of bed. She was wearing my Stanford sweatshirt and a pair of baggy sweatpants, as I then forced her into a pair of boots. Emily was to weak to walk, so I had to carry her to the car.

Setting her down in the passenger seat, I then put her seatbelt on. Running to the other side, I climbed in and started the car. The radio was on, as New Americana started playing. Emily sang along.

"Cigarettes and tiny liquor bottles,
Just what you'd expect inside her new Balenciaga.
Vile romance, turned dreams into an empire.
Self-made success now she rolls with Rockefellers."

Even when she was sick and her voice was scratchy, she was still a beautiful singer. I couldn't help but smile, and think about her singing all the time.

I pulled into the hospital parking lot, and parked the car. Climbing out, I went and got Emily. Unbuckling her seatbelt, I then picked her back up in my arms. Carrying her inside, I walked up to the receptionist desk.