Isobel Hermann

Chapter 3

I groaned. Pain seemed to fill my body as I struggled to open my eyes and sit upright. Glancing around, I realised where I was — a hospital. I groaned again, louder this time, catching the attention of my father, who seemed to be sitting next to me, holding my hand. "Water?" He questioned.

"Please." I croaked before sipping, grateful for the liquid soothing my throat. "What happened?" 

"What do you remember?"

"Cleaning with- Borelli, is he alright?"

"He's fine. You had an allergic reaction to the polish you were using."

"Oh, why are you here? Shouldn't you be saving lives?"

"I've got my radio, and the rest of truck is in the waiting room." He flashed his radio at me.

"When am I free?"

"Tomorrow morning."

Just then a call came through. Dad shot me an apologetic look as he sprinted out of the hospital  room. I know Dad can't live without his job but it always seems to protrude in our time together. I don't want him to quit, I just wish he took more time off. I know it seems selfish, it is selfish. I just, miss my father. The time we spent together seems so far away. Nowadays, he is alway tired when he arrives home from work and I don't want to disturb him. I don't want to hurt him either. I close my eyes; if I'm going to be in hospital, I may as well catch up on some much-needed sleep.

When I next awoke, Mum — no I won't caller her that, Cindy, was sitting next to me. I tensed. "How are you feeling Sweetie?" She asked in the sickly sweet voice, she always used when we were out in public.

"I'm fine." I growled. In reality I had a slight headache and I was thankful that the doctors hadn't thought it necessary to hook me up to any of the beeping machines. Small mercies.

"Good, your father has been really worried about you." 

"I didn't mean to worry him."

"Of course you didn't." She said it sarcastically as though she thought I wanted to worry the only person who truly cared. "It's 3 o'clock; I need to go pick up your siblings from school," Cindy continued, "Chris said he'd drop in later so I won't bother coming back." She then exists the room, leaving me alone in my own thoughts. 

Around 5 minutes after she left a a doctor walked in, "Hi Isobel, I'm Dr Halstead. How're you feeling?" 

"Ummm...Just a bit of a headache and tiredness."

He pulled a small torch out of his pocket and shined it in my eyes, "Tiredness is expected but that headache will need to be checked. Did you hit your head at all yesterday?" 

"I don't think so," I said after a short think.

"Well it seems to just be a normal headache. Your father dropped your bag off earlier; it's just by the bed." He turned and exited. I grabbed my bag and leafed through until I found my reading book. Carefully placing my bag on the floor, I began reading my book.