"Life is a precious thing. Don't waste it on bullshit." -unknown ___________________________________
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Hazel Fenty
We sat in the waiting room, me, with shaken hands. My palms were sweaty and the adrenaline coursing through my system was shutting down my ability to think logically. I wanted to run or beat the living daylights out of something, either would do. My mom was the only thing on my mind. Her beautiful life was on the line right now. I looked over at my dad who had a wet face of tears. I bet he felt stupid right now. I say that, because all they had been doing for the last few days was argue. Next, fuck each other's brains out like it wasn't nothing. Then, argue so more and the cycle repeated itself.
Harlow rubbed my back as I looked away. I didn't want to be touched or talked to right now. I only wanted to hear from the doctor but Harlow was just trying to help. Never in a all my years of living would I have thought I'd be sitting in a waiting room scared for mother with bloody hands and clothes.
The air conditioning could be described as a little over eager. It was more like a blustery winter chill than a cooling summer breeze. It gave me thick layers of goosebumps. I rubbed my arms to ease the shivers that creeped up my spine. "Can someone please turn of the air?" I whined, sniffling. I was so uncomfortable and just sitting here was making me more and more nervous.
"Here, you can take my jacket." Harlow offered, taking off her jacket.
"No, then you'll be cold." I declined, shaking my head.
"I'm actually burning up right now." She admitted. I took the thick jacket covering myself up.
"Thanks." I croaked, as I begin to cry. I couldn't get my moms panicked face out of my brain.
"Awe, baby doll." She cooed, wrapping her arms around me as I cried. I couldn't get it through my skull that mother had just been shot.
My dad was over there with a snotty face like he felt so bad. I don't believe those tears. Every argument him and my mom shared started all because of him. The simplest thing made him mad, like for example, if my mom didn't add enough salt or sugar to a meal he'd get mad. It's like he liked to argue.
Longer hours had past by and now it was almost four in the evening. A doctor walked around the corner just as I was about to take out my phone. He was covered in blood, and making his way over. His facial expression couldn't be read behind those glasses. It was like mask to cover up whatever he was getting ready to tell us.
