Book of Short Stories.

A Sad Emergency by: Cayla Anne

Tears stream down my face as I think about what happened. Everything was so good, so normal. And, just like that, my whole day died. Sorrow surrounds me like a blanket, my heart breaking further upon the me knowledge. My eyes close, bringing images to play behind my eyelids. I open them quickly again, not wanting to have to see it twice. But I know I will live it over again and again until I can get past this.

~Earlier Today~

I take a tray and fill it with enough food to get me through the rest of my day, finding an empty table and sitting down to have my meal. My ears fill with people's voices of conversations going on before I hear a 'ding'. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I unlock it and read the message from Aunt Lily.

"Can you pick up Travis?"

I think about it. My boss knows about my brother's living situation, so they should spare me a few minutes to pick him up and drop him off at Aunt Lily's house. She works, so when she can't get him, I do. School hours just don't line up with work hours.

I respond with a, "Yes," and finish off my food; wrapping it up and disposing of it before exiting the cafeteria.

The clean white walls of the hospital line my periphial vision as I make my way to the emergency room. The gray doors I enter through reveal a big room with curtains and beds, nurses walking around while doctors yell orders. My heart jumps at the excitement this ward brings.

I move along to a patient, asking them what's wrong, taking their vitals and writing in their file.

"The doctor should be in any moment. If you need anything just press this button here, and if you need me specifically for anything ask the nurse for Andrea." I inform him.

Making my way to my next patient, I notice a couple walking towards the exit. They remind me of my parents, before they left. A wave of sadness washes over me, pushing away my happy, helpful mood. My mom and dad were happy once. Before all the little pieces started falling out of place. Dad decided to leave us, us being my brother, my mom and I - he was interested in another woman. After about two months of single-parenting, my mom had enough. She packed her bags and left, and we were sent to our aunt's. Travis was little, so he doesn't remember much, but some. He was only four at the time.

I shake my head, snapping out of my thoughts and I step into another room. I see that a doctor is already here, so I ask if he needs assistance.

"Yes, actually. You're just in time," he says quickly. "I'm in quite the hurry. Would you mind finishing his file update?" He asks me, holding the file out to me.

Before I can respond, or reach for the file, a loud voice booms over the intercoms. "Code Black, Code Black; all nurses to report to Emergency Entrance."

Panic rises in me, a shot of adrenaline accompanying it. Gunshots aren't easy cases and usually they aren't in easy places.

I look at the doctor and he nods, telling me to go. I turn on my heel and flip the curtain behind me, running to the emergency entrance where the ambulance comes in. The sirens approach quickly.

We open the Emergency Entrance doors while the ambulance team climbs out and pulls the stretcher out of the back.

It's a young boy, and when I notice who it is, my heart sinks. Travis, my brother. I almost throw up at the knowledge I've just gained. My brother. Ambulance. Gunshot. An aching spreads throughout my body like a lightning strike.

Without realizing, I start checking his airways, breathing and carotid artery for a pulse, muscle memory taking over.

All things are clear, so someone starts his vitals while I locate the area of the bullet. It's lodged in his shoulder, blood swiftly pumping out. There is no exit wound, meaning the bullet is still inside of him.

Without warning him, I dig my fingers into the hole and try to find the disastrous metal. He screams out in pain; a screeching, high-pitched, cry that echoes in my ears.

I look down at the pale boy, sweat pouring down his face as he goes into shock. My heart skips a beat at the scary thought threatening to form. I freeze, unsure if this is a dream or reality - hoping it's a nightmare.

"Spence! Get out of your head! Get the bullet!" Doctor Landry shouts at me.

Without hesitation, I follow his orders, digging in the wound again to find the small piece of metal that has done lots of damage, blocking Travis's screams out, guilt rising in my gut. Luckily, it is still intact - no tiny fragments left behind. I say a small, 'thank you,' in my head and put the bullet in a small container.

"Spence, put pressure on this." The doctor orders.

I do as he says and push down on my brother's shoulder. On the inside, it's slowly killing me to see him like this. He's not himself. He's pale and sweaty, and very still.

I check his carotid artery again but feel nothing.

"I don't have a pulse!" I yell out, causing all the nurses around to shift about, moving out of my way as they bring the paddles over to me. I clear his chest and place the paddles down. "Clear," I shout as I see no one's hands are on him, and shock his heart. I check again, but there's nothing. So I place the paddles down once more. "Clear!" I shock him a second time and check his pulse. Nothing.

I remove the paddles from his chest.

Interlocking my fingers, I place my hands over his sternum and begin compressions.

I walk through the door of the house, making a B-line for Travis's room.

"Travis!" I call out, hoping he's here.

*Compression*

"Yeah?" I hear him shout back, sounding as though he's in the closet. A sigh of relief leaves my lips and I relax for the first time in hours.

*Compression*

"Where were you?" I ask as I turn the corner and step into his walk-in closet.

*Compression*

"I've been here all day," he calmly, but confusedly, responds.

*Compression*

"No, you haven't. I was here earlier and you weren't. Aunt Lily has been looking all over town for you!" I say exasperatedly.

*Compression*

His face falls upon hearing my words and he looks down. "Sorry," he says.

*Compression*

I feel my face soften at his words. "It's okay," I tell him quietly, "just tell us where you're going next time. You scared us. We're just worried about you is all," I reassure him.

*Compression*

"Okay." He says understandingly.

"So?" I ask.

He looks at me confused again. "What?"

*Compression*

"Where were you?" I prod. My curiosity makes it's way to the surface, wondering what was so important that I couldn't find him for five hours.

*Compression*

"Um, just chillin' at Nathan's," he responds hesitantly, almost nervously. I stare at him, an 'I-know-you're-lying' look on my face. He attempts a smile to try and play it off, but he knows I caught him. "Okay, so I wasn't at Nathan's," he admits. I nod, urging him on after a minute of silence. "I went to a counselor."

*Compression*

I'm taken aback at his confession. A counselor? Why does he need a counselor? "Bubba, why did you go to a psychologist?"

He looks at me, a frown firmly planted on his face, eyebrows furrowed as he speaks. "I didn't go to a psychologist. I went to a leader, at the church, you know?"

*Compression*

"Okay, why did you go to a leader at the church?" I rephrase.

He doesn't say anything, just stands there, guilt holding his features.

"Bubba?" I push.

*Compression*

He looks down and sighs. "I-I wanted to know if I was the reason mom and dad left." He says, lips quivering and eyes filling with tears.

I can feel my face fall and guilt starts rising in me. I should've made it clear to him that he doesn't have anything to do with the reason they left. I make my way over to him, hug him close and cup his face in my hands. "Of course not. You had nothing to do with them leaving-"

*Compression*

"I know, I know that now," he breathes as a tear slips down his face. He plays with his fingers as he speaks. "I just-I needed to know for sure. I spoke with the youth pastor. He said something that I really liked. He asked me if I had family of any kind and if so did I believe that they loved me.

I said, 'Yes.'

So he then asked me, 'If you have people that love and care for you, why do you care so much about the people that don't?'

*Compression*

He went on to say that God loves me and he's watching over me. But he made me realize that I have you and Talon and Aunt Lily and Uncle Michael. But, why was I feeling so lonely? I asked him that.

He said, 'I don't know. But, know that you're not. I'm always here.'" Travis goes silent for a moment.

*Compression*

I sigh, internally struggling for words to say, but none reach my tongue.

"Andrea, he cares about me and he doesn't even know me! He told me that I have a lot of privileges that other kids don't have, for instance, having a close relationship with my brother-in-law." I chuckle at that. "I have so much to be thankful for and yet, there I was, thinking about the one negative thing in my life. You know, during our talk, he told me that I need to just simply enjoy life and live it to it's fullest because one day I might regret a chance I don't take.

*Compression*

I promised myself that I would make others happy and I would let them know that they can trust me and I'll listen to them whenever they want; that I'll be there for them always." He informs me, tears dried up as he speaks about his encouraging encounter.

I nod my head, understanding him and agreeing with him. "That's a big promise to make," I tell him.

"But I know I can keep it," he counters.

"I don't doubt you for a second," I respond happily.

*Compression*

A second later, someone places a mouth piece on his lips, so I give two breaths. As I continue CPR, more memories of his life come back to me, but they're keeping a scary thought at the forefront of my mind.

"Don't give up on me, not now." I say to Travis, hoping he will follow my command. "Don't leave me, don't you dare," I challenge him. "Come on, take a breath, vomit, do something!" I scream at him, but there's no answer.

My vision becomes blurry as water coats my eyes. My hands push harder on his chest and I give longer, more filling breaths, reaching for a life that is just out of my grasp, but to no avail. The tears are spilling over as I continue to give compressions.

"No!" I scream. "No, no, no," I repeat over and over again. I continue CPR until I'm physically forced to stop by one of the doctors.

"He's gone," Doctor Landry says.

I sob in the emergency room, thinking about all the little things I could've done to make him stay a little longer, but nothing would've worked. There was nothing I could've done.

Tears stream down my face as I think about what happened. Everything was so good, so normal. And, just like that, my whole day died. Sorrow surrounds me like a blanket, my heart breaking further upon new knowledge. My eyes close, bringing images to play behind my eyelids. I open them quickly again, not wanting to have to see it twice. But I know I will live it over again and again until I can get past this.