Chapter 3 - The Hospital

I drove in the ambulance with my grandmother. She’d fallen on her head after the slap, and might have a minor concussion. I held her hand tight and prayed that she was okay. Angry tears streamed down my face, and all I could think about was the fact that my mother had done this. She’d broken my grandma.

 

I looked down at her. Her gray hair tumbled out of her bun and stuck to her sweaty face. Her mouth was parted, and her lips were incredibly chapped. The wrinkles on her face stood out more with the red hand print over them. I stroked her cheek, like my mother had done to me when I was little. When she wasn’t an alcoholic. A tear dripped onto my grandmother’s face and I wiped it away.

 

When we arrived at the hospital, I hopped out first. Then the paramedic loaded my grandma out. I watched as they wheeled her into the hospital. Another paramedic held me back when I tried to run in after them. I screamed and kicked, but to no avail.

 

I was escorted to the waiting room. I sat in the plaid chair closest to the secretary’s desk. My mind raced as I thought about all the horrible ways this could go wrong, all the things that might happen. I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself to think about something else. So I thought about my father. Leave it to me to come up with devastating thoughts to keep my mind off my problems.

 

I thought about his warm smile, and his chocolate brown eyes. His dirty blond hair was always a little ruffled in the front, but he never looked bad. He liked to wear polo’s. I remember doing heaps of polo’s in when I had to do the laundry. A tear slipped out of my eye as I thought about the simple everyday things that I no longer had.

 

A freezing finger brushed away my tear.

 

My eyes snapped open, and I was face to face with a blue-cheeked girl. She looked about my age, maybe a year or two older. Her eyes were a fiery red.

 

“Please,” she whispered. “Help me.”

 

I sat paralyzed. The girl looked at me with an expression of wonder. “You’re new to this, aren’t you?”

 

I didn’t answer.

 

The ghombie laughed. “Oh, well. I can make do.”

 

She brushed the hair on my neck out of her way. She stroked my neck’s skin, her icy fingers making my pulse flutter. Finally, I found my voice.

“Stop. Now!” I barely noticed the odd glances I got from the secretary and other people in the waiting room.

 

The girl frowned. “You don’t want your blood to be sucked?” She laughed humourlessly. “Of course you don’t. Your kind is all too selfish to give to the deceased.”

 

With that, she lunged for my neck. I slipped out of the way just in time. I hopped out of my chair and dashed out the hospital doors. The ghombie followed me, laughing.

 

“You can run, but you cannot hide,” she chanted.

 

As I was running through the parking lot, she appeared in front of me and I tumbled into her frigid dead body.

 

“That was rude,” she mocked.

 

She grabbed my shoulders and shoved her mouth onto my neck. I screamed. She nicked my skin, teasing me. Excruciating pain tore through me, and I screamed again. Then she sank her teeth into my flesh. I began to cry, the pain was so terrible.

 

Then she was ripped away. Her teeth bite was on my neck, but I was still in my body. She hadn’t drunk any blood. I was about to run away, but then I saw my mother holding the ghombie in a headlock.

 

“I’ll make you a deal,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “I’ll give you four hours if you leave now. I’ll come back here in exactly two weeks and you can have my body for four whole hours.”

 

The ghombie hesitated. Her red eyes burned brighter.

 

My mother growled, “Every minute you don’t make a decision is a minute I take off your time in my body.”

 

The girl instantly nodded, her eyes dimming. “Yes. I take the deal.”

 

My mother shoved her away, a look of disgust in her eyes. The ghombie slinked into the shadows of the parking lot, shooting daggers at us. I turned to my obviously-sober mother.

 

“Are you going to keep your deal?” I asked emotionlessly.

 

“Yes.” She gave no explanation whatsoever.

 

I turned on my heel and headed back towards the hospital. My mother piped up from behind me.

 

“You’re not even going to thank me?” She sounded astounded.

 

 I didn’t look at her. “This doesn’t make up for hitting grandma. Or your alcohol addiction. Or for hitting me.”

 

Her voice was quieter. “Why not?”

 

Tears pressed hard to be let out, but I didn’t let them. “Because you don’t deserve any forgiveness.”

 

I ran back into the hospital, my heart pounding. I took my seat again near the secretary. If she noticed my muffled, hysterical sobs, she didn’t let on. My mother pushed angrily into the hospital and took her seat next to me. I wouldn’t look at her.

 

“Wendy Landry?” A man in a lab coat walked into the waiting room with a clipboard. His nametag said “Dr. Adams.”

 

My mother stood shakily. “That’s me.”

 

“Follow me over here please, ma’am. There are some matters we must discuss about your mother.”

 

I leapt up. “Let me hear, too! I’m her granddaughter, and I’m not the one who landed her in the hospital in the first place!”

 

I knew I’d said too much when the doctor gave me a shocked look, and my mother coughed to hide her sob. But I pressed on.

 

“Please let me hear, doctor.” I gave him my best puppy-dog eyes.

 

Dr. Adams waved me over. “Well, c’mon, then.”

 

I eagerly rushed over to the doctor, my mother right behind me.

 

Dr. Adams didn’t waste a second. “Pricilla should be alright. The worst of her injuries is shock and minor head trauma.”

 

I breathed a sigh of relief.

 

“But I called you over here so you could explain what happened. Wendy, you’re daughter says you got Pricilla in the hospital. Is this true?”

 

My mother shook her head. “I don’t know where she gets her story. I didn’t do anything.”

 

I hated her. “You li--”

 

“Andrea, please. Enough.”

 

I continued. “Doctor, she’s lying! She slapped my grandma and she fell and hit her head!”

 

Dr. Adams looked incredulously at me. “Honey, me and your mother have some very serious issues to discuss and we would appreciate it if you took a seat back over there.”

 

Anger spiked through me. “But--”

 

“Go.”

 

I turned and stomped back to my stupid seat near the stupid secretary. I strained to hear their conversation, but I couldn’t understand what they were saying. I gave up.

 

When my mother sat back down, I glared at her until she stood up and moved seats. It didn’t make me feel any better about her lies, but I felt more comfortable without her right next to me.

Author's Note

yay, number 3! thanks for all the awesome comments on the other chapters:) criticism is always appreciated!

Reviews

[Jasmine Thousand]

Hmm...the girl seems a bit selfish LOL but I LOVED the chapter! Excellent!
~Jasmine thousand~

[Eversea]

I like how her thoughts change, how instead of referring to the seat as 'the seat' it turns to 'the stupid seat'. But oh my gosh, that part with the Ghombie I was all "hhoienven ruuun!" My sister thinks I've gone insane. She's hooked now, too though. Mua ha ha.

[TheKaylaPup]

Her mother must really care, see your characters have depth! I love it when the characters have depth. it's soo sad to see.

[BloodyMary]

i hate her. you know who im talking about.

[Death Girl]

I would be so pissed if my mother ever did that. Wow.

[Ness of Love]

The story intensifies, dun dun duuuun! The grandmother, I feel so sorry for her also

[TWISTED NIGHTMARE]

I'm really liking this book...i really like the drama with the mom and Andrea...i can tell this is going to be a drama, action, dark, twisted book...AMAZING