Highest Rank In Spiritual #18
Andre Brown's life has sunk into a never ending black hole. Nothing seems to be working out for him and he has no answers why. His faith in God has gotten him as far as being in and out of homeless shelters. Forcing his...
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"So this is it?" Stephanie clutched the leather seats beneath her as the quiet taxi cab pulled in front of an eerie nursing home. The trees covered in snow, hoarded the entire building as it was almost below zero. You could see the frost embedded in the window sills, and every blind shut to trap in warmth. The nursing home appeared to be a dullness that accompanied every other nursing home known to man. It just disturbed Andre that his mother was inside a nursing home.
"This is it." Dre confirmed, poising his lips together in dissatisfaction of the nursing home's conditions and almost feared of going inside. Before the abrupt halting of the cab engine running off the driver immediately states their travel costs. Stephanie reaches into her wallet before Dre holds her hands down, and he himself pays. Stephanie places her wallet back into her purse before wrapping her scarf around her neck and savoring the warm car. Once the driver wishes them a short farewell, Andre removes his beanie from his head and hands it to Stephanie.
"Are you sure? It's almost below zero."
"I'd rather freeze than see you freeze, wear it please." Stephanie followed his request and the two intertwined their hands together, warmth trapping between their hands. The pathway up to the gated front door was nothing short of icy, and un-shoveled snow. Their shoes resisted of traction and had them grasping onto each other every other step. It seemed as if nobody came to visit anyone in this nursing home—it matched the real description of a depressing nursing home.
Andre's fingers and knuckles wanted to lock up from the brisk and troubled air as he reached for the intercom button. A faint cough automatically wavered through the speaker and began to speak promptly after. "Who is it?"
Andre breathed in short and replied. "I'm here to see Joyce-" the receptionist on the other side of the intercom rolled her eyes and took a deep breath to interrupt him.
"No, I need the last name of the patient and your relationship to the patient." Her voice stern and old, her fingernails tapped away at the keyboard as she glanced at the four screen computer layout, watching Andre and Stephanie stand in the cold bearing air.
"My- my last name is Brown!" Andre's fingers sweated between the phone's coiled line, heart excellerated and adrenaline rushing through him.
His eyes bounced around the room vigorously like they needed an answer, a hopeless answer of pity and sorrow. He could hear his mother in the next room throwing everything she decorated the nursery room with against the thin yellow walls, down the hall, over the stairwell and crashing onto the hardwood. The noises petrified Andre as he sat in the corner of his room feeling inferior. It wasn't the first time he felt like this because this wasn't the first time his mother had lashed out.
