It was noon on a beautiful spring day. Sitting in the small waiting
room of the local waiting room, 25-year-old Monique Karli sat staring at
her old, muddy sneakers. She slipped her fingers through her rust
colored hair. She sighed and stretched her cramped legs. The wait was
exceedingly long.
Monique flashed back to the accident. The flashing lights were
bright, powerfully bright. She could still hear the ear-splitting
pandemonium. It seemed to take forever for the firemen to drag Jessica,
her 22-year-old sister, out of the twisted metal. Monique suffered only
a broken wrist. Jessica, on the other hand, was hurt badly. The doctors
were afraid she might slip into a coma.
Monique sniffed. The man in the large tawny van was extremely
reckless, and drunk to boot. He darted off so quickly. Monique was
afraid she might start crying again, but the tears would not, or could
not, come.
She heard movement in front of her and looked up. A doctor with a
faint smile on her tired face was sauntering towards her. She sat up
straighter, hopeful. The doctor passed her and went to an old man two
seats over. He was a stranger. Monique slouched over again. The suspense
was killing her.
Twice more, smiling doctors went to the people around her and once
a doctor near tears walked to a young lady in the next seat, whispered
something, turned his heel, and left. Monique spent the next twenty
minutes trying to comfort the wailing girl before she ran from the room.
Adjusting her gold-rimmed glasses, Monique leaned back with a sigh.
She closed her eyes and fell asleep. The next thing she knew, she was
being awakened with a gentle shaking of her shoulder. Opening her eyes,
Monique looked at the kind face hovering over her. The doctor smiled and
asked her to follow him to Jessica.
She practically ran to the room. There was Jessica. Her little
sister, who had always been small for her age, looked tiny as she slept
in the big hospital bed. She opened her eyes and gave a weak, tired
smile. Monique returned the smile and brushed away one solitary tear
navigating its way slowly down her cheek. Leaning over Jessica, Monique
hugged her warmly. She did not want to let go. They would get better.
Life would get better.