*Although I can't relate to this, I wanted to write a story with a girl put in a difficut situation. These sort of stories is where I think I shine best. So let me know what you think!

 

Chapter One

          Mom turned the steering wheel of our new van, clutching the rubber so hard her knuckles stuck out under her pale skin like bony lumps. I swallowed and had to look away, feeling her stress in the car. The calm I had sensed an hour ago was gone now after the phone call she had received, I briefly wonder what Aunt Hannah could have said to make her this angry.

            “Mom,” I said quietly. My voice pierced the silence and made even me uncomfortable. Mom shifted ever so slightly before looking at me from the corner of her pale blue eyes.

            “Yes?” She asked, her usually gentle and soft voice cracked. My lips felt dry as I licked them. For a moment I wondered if I could retrieve my strawberry lip-gloss from my duffel bag but decided against it. I wasn’t willing to dig thorough four cases of basic hair, facial, and body care products to retrieve it.

            I had forgotten her answering yes and sat there in another silence, itching to see how the long car trip had affected the look that had satisfied me this morning. Finally, the need to see myself took over, and I flipped the car mirror down. I grimaced when I saw myself. The seven hours in a crowded car had not done my features justice. My usually straight and thick brown hair was a tangled mess. My eyes, blue like mom’s but darker, were bloodshot and had purple bags under them, casting shadows over my dark-cream skin. My lips were a pale-red and skin was protruding from the bottom one from where I had bit it with anxious emotions.

            The outfit I had so carefully chosen for today was wrinkled and didn’t look good anymore. I had been so proud of the dark purple top with a black velvet belt and small white shorts. There wasn’t enough length to them, I decided, and they exposed the paler parts of my legs that refused to tan, even in the brightest of sunlight.

            “Yes?” Mom repeated, causing me to jump. My thoughts searched for the answer to her question. It took me another four minutes of thinking, but I relaxed my stance and leaned against the leather of the car seats.

            “Just wondering…why are you upset?” I played with a hangnail on my thumb, careful to handle it with gentleness.

            Mom frowned. “I’m not.”

            “You acted like you were.” My voice was barely audible.

            Mom clicked her tongue. “By doing what?”

            “When Aunt Hannah called,” I said slowly. Then paused, seeing her pained expression. “You know what? Forget it.”

            “No,” mom shook her head. “I didn’t know it was so obvious.”

            I closed my eyes, wishing I could fall asleep. But my position was much too rigid. I didn’t press her for more information, though. Inside I was dying with curiosity.

            “Aunt Hannah is expecting,” mom began. Her eyes lit up.

            I widened my eyes. “Really? When?”

            “Soon,” mom promised. Then the darkness returned to her face. The earlier excitement was gone. “The problem is she’s having some complications with the pregnancy.”

            “That’s not good!” I exclaimed, worried. Now I understood. Mom’s younger sister, the youthful and energetic Hannah, was constantly in her thoughts. If Hannah was in pain, mom was too.

            “Yes. And our visit may need to be longer than expected. That’s what I’m most worried about.”

            I turned my head to look at the supplies for the upcoming three-week stay at Aunt Hannah’s new lakeside home.

            “How much longer?” I asked, suspicion rising in my tone.

            “I was thinking two months…just until the baby is born. It worries me to have her all alone. Rick is a businessman and he’s away a lot. If something were to happen and she couldn’t get help-“ mom broke off mid sentence and shuddered. She forced a smile onto her face for me, though, and said brightly. “But you don’t have to stay the whole summer here if you don’t want to.”

            “Dad?” I asked, knowing how upset this touchy subject of conversation made her. Mom shrugged, indifferent.

            “That’s what I was thinking. He only lives a couple of hours away. I know he has a nice home. Only a few blocks from the beach. Great views, I heard. And It has plenty of room for you, if need be.”

            I was shaking my head even before mom was finished. “No. No. I want to stay at Aunt Hannah’s. With you.”

            This made mom happy. I could tell from the smile pulling at the corners of her lips, threatening to break across her face. She used the very little restraint she had left to keep it from me, though.

            The silence folded over us again. It gave me time to think. Mom wasn’t one to tolerate long conversation. She liked things quick and to the point. In my eyes, mom was indestructible, a force of nature.

            My mind wandered over to dad. Again, I felt a sort of satisfying calmness come over me. Mom was happy because I didn’t want to see him. Why should I? The divorce he and mom had gone through seven months ago had left me scarred. Even worse was the fact that dad already had a girlfriend, Ashley Browne. Ashley was much younger than dad with sweet brown eyes and a smile complimented by a mouthful of snow-white teeth. She was around my height and a biologist. The few times that I had met Ashley she was friendly and welcoming. Perhaps too welcoming. She overwhelmed me.

            Dad looked old enough to be her father. Not that he was old enough. Ashley was thirty-four…five years younger than dad. But dad had stubble and graying hair that used to be a brown to match mine. His hazel eyes didn’t look happy anymore. When he was with Ashley, they didn’t even spark. So I wondered why Ashley, blonde haired and very pretty, stuck with him when she could have anyone she wanted? I didn’t consider her shallow enough for it to be because of his money, or his looks. He didn’t have much of either really.

            I was put back into the present as mom slammed on the brakes. It sent my flying forward, into the dashboard. Mom let go of the steering wheel, the impact sending her back. The car swerved into the other lane. Cars came at us. The deafening sound of crunching metal caused me to put my hands to my ears. Then the car was sailing across the highway. The glass pane before me shattered, it sent splatters of sharp glass onto my lap, cutting and slicing.

            “Get in the back!” Mom shouted, unbuckling her seatbelt. I did as I was told, nestling down between two seats. I shook there from the impact of it all. The car rolled one, two, three times then halted.

            I sat there, frozen, for what seemed like forever. My teeth chattered, not because it was cold. It was steaming hot in here. I realized with shock that the car was most likely on fire. But I couldn’t move. I just couldn’t.

            “There’s the older lady!” someone yelled. I looked up to see mom being dragged from the car by a man with burly shoulders.

            “There’s someone else!” He shouted, disappearing from view. He returned, climbing in. The smell of smoke reached my nose and set me to coughing. He followed the noise and slid his arms under me, picking me up. I coughed as more smoke hit me in the face. Then there was sunlight, and the sound of people crying. Strangers I didn’t even know rushed forward and took me from him. I was given a blanket and some water. The paramedics that had driven in put a breathing mask over my mouth and nose. The smoke melted away from my sinuses.

            It was a while before things became clear. The strangers were people that had witnessed the accident, only wanting to help. There were four ambulances. Two of them held people that had been injured ramming into us. But no one died. That I had heard of. But the worst was not seeing mom.

            “Hey.” I looked up to see a young guy, dressed in a police uniform, with a bunch of sandy hair falling across his face. He plopped down next to me. “How ya doing?”

            “Fine,” I answered, looking away. “Where’s my mom?”

            He sighed, a lonely depressed sound.

            Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes. “Is. She. Alive.” My voice was cold without emotion. Only hate lingered behind the words.

            “Barely,” the officer answered honestly. “Barely.”

            My shoulders sagged.

            “It looks like she saved you from near-death,” he continued. “I’m so sorry. About this. I mean you’ll have to talk to the doctor to know more…”

            I looked down. “Fine.”

            “For now, ride with Joey here.” The policeman gestured to another man, this time older, with a friendly face and crinkly brown eyes.

            “Come with me,” Joey said, grabbing my hand. He reminded me of a grandfather. I felt safe with him.

            “Sit up here,” Joey directed, setting me down on a padded bench inside the ambulance. “Shelly here will take care of you.”

            A young woman with short brown hair gave me a smile. “Hi, hon. I’m just going to check you out.” She grabbed the stethoscope and held it to my chest. Smiling, she pulled it away. “Your heart beat’s normal.”

            She looked down at my lap. My new shorts were stained with blood. I felt sick when I realized it was mine.

            “Here, I’ll leave you alone to change,” Shelly said, handing me a hospital gown. “This is so I can take a closer look at your legs.”

            I nodded. “Okay.”

            “But be careful when you take your shorts off,” she warned. “You don’t want to drive any glass further into your legs.”

            I undressed quickly, slipping the hideous blue gown over my head. But it was soft, and I enjoyed it. Shelly returned a few minutes later, holding a stuffed bear.

            “This is from John,” she said, handing the smiling creature over to me. Shelly pointed over to a man standing beside another ambulance. “He comes whenever a child is involved in an accident and brings comforting things.”

            I hugged the bear to my stomach, feeling it’s soft brown fur. “Thanks. I love it.”

            Shelly lifted the gown up to the top of my thighs. I had to look away from the deep gashes the glass had caused. There was blood…everywhere.

            Shelly got to work on them. She put my legs in a small basin, and then poured antiseptic over them. The blood rinsed away along with it. She then scrubbed my legs with a medicine from a small blue bottle that burned.

            “It’ll help fight infection,” she said. “Like the antiseptic but stronger. It’ll sting a little bit.”

            “It burns,” I corrected her. “Really bad.” I yelped as she scrubbed the cuts harder.

            “Sorry,” she apologized, giving me a sympathetic look. She pulled the cloth away from my legs and smiled. “See? They aren’t as deep as we thought. They just bled a lot. And the good thing is, nothing cut your artery. So you probably won’t even have to go to the ER. You’re very lucky.”

            “Thanks,” I said as she got to work with something that resembled tweezers, but had a point that wasn’t as sharp and they were smaller in comparison.

            Close to fifteen minutes later Shelly had collected twenty pieces of glass. She looked over my legs carefully again.

            “That looks like it all,” she commented. She brought back a new basin, this one cleaner, and rinsed my legs with the antiseptic again.

            “Thank you,” I said quietly. Shelly looked up from her work.

            “You’re very brave, honey.” Shelly grabbed several bandages, all-varying in size, shape, and color.

            “Do you know anything about my mom?” I asked.

            Shelly wrapped a white bandage around me knee. “A little bit.”

            “What happened after I climbed back there?”

            Shelly sniffed. “She tried to stop the car after making sure you were safe. At least, that’s what it looks like. Her window shattered across her, the door caved in, and she went flying back. But…she looks like she’ll pull through. We’ve got our best team of doctors caring for her this second.”

            I was silent as Shelly finished the task. “Well, I’d like the doctor to look at you.” She stood. “That would be best.”

            “Okay,” I replied, nodding.

            Shelly hopped from the ambulance to the concrete. I timidly looked around. We were on the highway, but policemen were working to close the road. Shelly told me to stay put and I obliged, sitting down and leaning my head against the metal wall.

            “You’re Rachel Lillian Emily Davidson?” someone asked. I looked up into the eyes of a small girl.

            “Yes,” I said. “Why?”

            “I need to ask you a few questions.”

            “Oh, okay,” I said, scooting over so the girl could sit beside me. Instead, she perched on the edge of the ambulance, swinging her legs. She withdrew a clipboard from a large bag she carried and a sharpened pencil from behind her ear.

            “Date of birth?” She asked.

            “March thirtieth,” I answered. “Nineteen ninety-five.”

            “So you’re fifteen?” She asked.

            I nodded. “Yeah.”

            The girl nodded. "Okay, explain your family. Any people living at home and any one away from home.”

            “I live with my mom in Greenwich, New York.” I said.

            “And your dad?” She asked, scribbling the information on the paper.

            “In New Castle. Here in New Hampshire. We were on our way to our aunts in--I think its New Hampton. Close to Winona Lake.”

            “Probably,” she replied, writing some more. “Do you have phone numbers for your aunt and your dad?”

            I knew Aunt Hannah’s. “My Aunt’s is five seven six, four seven five one.” The girl wrote some more and looked back up, expectantly.

            “I don’t remember my dad’s,” I said, embarrassed. “He and mom don’t talk. So we don’t either.”

            “That’s okay,” she said, standing up. I realized I was taller than her.

            “Who are you?” I asked rudely, then blushed, embarrassed at my bluntness.

            “I’m Cassandra Ray.” She stuck her hand out. I shook it quickly.

            “How old are you?” I asked.

            “Seventeen,” she admitted. “My mom’s name is Shelly. She was cleaning your cuts. She brings me along and I get paid to do people’s information. I just turned seventeen in February, so we aren’t far apart in age.”

            I decided I liked this girl with straight black hair and brown eyes. She was darkly tanned, and wore a pair of old jeans and a plain short-sleeved top. The color of the top was something between a purple and blue.”

            Shelly came back over at that moment and slung a comforting arm around her daughter. “Dad’s here to pick you up,” she said, taking the clipboard from her. “You have a ways drive so go on with him.”

            Cassandra waved goodbye and loped away, pulling a cell phone from her pocket and chattering excitedly.

            “I see you met Sandy,” Shelly said fondly. “She’s a good girl, really loving and caring. She wants to be a doctor for the ER. She’s always been a big help.”

            “I like her,” I said, my spirits lifted. “She made me feel so much better.”

            “Sandy has a way of doing that.”

            I nodded. “Any news of my mom?”

            Shelly nodded. “She’s stable. Doing pretty well, actually. It looks like she’ll have quite a stay in the hospital ahead of her. Poor thing.”

            “What now?” I asked. The sun was beginning to set behind the distant hills. It cast reds purples and pinks across the darkening sky.

            “I’ll ride with you to the hospital where the doctor will check you again. Since your aunt is closer you’ll stay with her if you wants you to until your dad can be notified.

            My stomach lurched. “What? Why can’t I stay with Hannah?”

            “If Hannah is your aunt,” Shelly began, “then she isn’t your legal guardian.”

            “Mom’s my legal guardian!” I exclaimed. “Not him! Not dad!”

            “He’s sort of second in line,” Shelly responded, shrugging. “As long as he’s not abusive or cruel, we can let you go to him.”

            I frowned. “No, he’s not. But-“

            “You really shouldn’t argue with us,” Shelly said, taking a seat next to me. “I talked it over with CPS and they looked up some information. Your dad is the person you’ll have to live with.”

            I sighed. “Okay, then, fine.” I was tired of arguing.

            Joey drove us to the hospital, where they insisted I was to be toted in on a wheel chair. I would have happily walked.

            Once inside, I was taken to a room where a friendly doctor shook my hand.

            “I’m Dr. Winters,” he said, introducing his self. “You must be Rachel Davidson.”

            I nodded. “Yes.”

            “Rachel,” Dr. Winters began, taking a seat and beginning to look over me. “Tell me about what happened, please. Everything you remember.”

            “Well,” I began. “We’re driving to Aunt Hannah’s in…New Hampton. We live in Greenwich New York. And my dad lives in New Castle here in New Hampshire. Mom and I were on our way. Aunt Hannah had just called mom. I asked mom what Aunt Hannah had talked about, because mom seemed upset. She said that Aunt Hannah was having a baby.” I paused to let him hear my pulse.

            “Go on,” he said, a few seconds later.

            “She was having a baby,” I continued. As he looked over my ears, my eyes, my stomach, my chest and finally, my legs, I finished my story.

            “I’m sorry this happened to you,” he said, giving me a sympathetic smile. “You’re a very brave girl for the age of fifteen.”

            “Thanks,” I muttered.

            Dr. Winters stood up and excused himself to turn the papers in regarding my condition, according to him. I dressed quickly in an outfit provided my Shelly from Sandy. Her daughter was my size. I was relieved to find a comfortable pair of pajamas in the bag along with mini bottles of shampoo, lotion and hand soap. There were two pairs of socks along with basic girls under wear. A mini bag on the side held lip-gloss and a new toothbrush along with basic mint toothpaste. There was a hairbrush along with that.

            “Hello,” said a female voice. The door clicked open. “Dr. Winters had to rush away so I’ll show you to your room.”

            I nodded and followed the woman who’s name was Allison. We chatted openly on the way about our lives. She was very upbeat. I was happy to have her to look after me until tomorrow.

            “Here you go,” Allison said, opening the door to room three hundred. Inside, there was a bathroom with a small shower, a twin sized bed and a couch lining the opposite wall from us.

            It was colored in a dull white. The ceiling was patterned with swirls in the paint. We had those at our house. You used a stamp to make them. The floor was smooth tile, and reflected the bright overhead lights.

            “We’ll call your aunt before bed,” Allison said. “We’ll bring you some dinner. I’m not sure what the cafeteria is serving tonight, but they have good food.” She smiled. “I usually have lunch here.”

            “Okay,” I said, setting my small bag of things down. “Thanks.”

            “I’ll leave you to get ready for bed,” Allison said. She exited the room.

            I showered, coming to reality as soon as the hot water hit my shoulders.  My sobs were muffled by the sound of the pounding water.

            I dressed in the warm, flannel pajamas and climbed happily into bed. Allison entered as I was drifting off to sleep and set a tray of something down. But my eyes were already closed. She left, and I fell into a deep sleep.

            “Ugh,” I groaned, rolling over. My hand flew out and hit the edge of something. I sat up, my eyes blinking, adjusting to the darkness. I felt around for the main light switch and then flicked it when I found it.

            There was a small pause, then several lights blinked on at once. It was so bright I covered my eyes as an instinct. As soon as I could see again, I adjusted the lights until the one over my head was on.

            The thing my hand hit was the tray from earlier before. I suddenly felt ravenous, looking at the large bowl of chicken soup with a side of sweet rolls. There was a side of butter. Upon feeling the items I realized they were all still warm. I set the tray in my lap and ate, finishing by drinking the large glass of water beside it all.

            I got up and stretched, my back cracking. The cold floor numbed my feet. I walked around a bit, finally settling on the couch, curling into a tight ball. I tucked my toes under me and shuddered with cold. I held that position for another moment before standing up and going back to the bed.

            I was tired. I was cold. And my mother wasn’t here to comfort me; to make things okay when they weren’t.

            “I hate this!” I grumbled, turning the light switch.

            And once again, the room was plunged into darkness.