Authors: Danielle
He couldn’t remember it all. They came in hordes at first, doctors and nurses. The room was too crowded, and he couldn’t breathe. Someone did CPR. They did it for several minutes trading off like relay runners.
Is she dead?
He thought he asked, but he couldn’t be sure.
No, she’s just in a deep coma. Forever?
Awkward silences ensued.
We don’t know.
Who can you call
? They asked over and over again. He numbly announced that he had a grandma and some cousins in California that he never really saw.
Could you go stay with them?
He could, maybe. He had never asked before because they lived so far away.
We need you to wait here until the rest of your family arrives.
Who?
The emergency contacts of course.
He slept by his mother’s side until relatives that looked nothing like him showed up.
Your mother will want you to come with us, you know.
One was snobby, with a pearl necklace and Oliver wondered how they hadn’t choked her yet. The other was older with fuzzy grandma hair but no cookies. They all kissed his mother so easily that Oliver almost felt scandalized. They didn’t know her at all.
What will you do now?
Who will you stay with?
I have a pool. There are good schools here.
Maybe we should call that school of yours and send you back.
He was able to dismiss them for the day, yawning loudly and obviously. They scurried away, making promises to return the next day to
figure his situation out.
It was in this moment that Oliver decided that he did not want anyone else to figure his situation out. He figured he deserved the right to do that for himself. He spent another day at his mother’s bedside, watching her chest rise and fall. He ate extra food for her in the hospital cafeteria and left some by her bed side as well, imagining that she might smell the overcooked meatloaf and rise up. He lathered himself and his clothes up in the shower and left them out to try, astonished at the dirt that washed from his body and into the drain below. He felt as if he was washing darkness itself from his body and soul. He ate more hospital food, dicey eggs and a stale roll. He toasted his mother with water from the sink. He repacked his bag, and added several hospital nightgowns and mints to the pack.
And then, having sufficiently regained his strength, he stood. He walked past the reception desk, feeling cleaner than ever. And he walked towards the bus stop and he waited. Day turned to night, but he waited still. When the bus crept up, he paid his money and hopped on.
“Where to?” The bus driver drawled.
“West.” He said.
THE END.
Author’s Note:
This book discusses some heavy themes, including implications and discussion of abuse, drug use, and depression. Please know that there is help available. Check out the
following resources if you need.
Safe Place:
http://nationalsafeplace.org/
National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-TALK (8255)
The Trevor Project:
www.TheTrevorProject.org
National Alliance on Mental Illness:
www.nami.org
And many more!
About the Author
Danielle Racey is in her twenties and has been writing since she was a little girl.
The Wisherman
is her second novel and the one she is most proud of so far.
The Wisherman
is the first book in an (as of now) untitled series. Stay tuned to find out more information about upcoming interviews and other work by Danielle Racey.
Connect with Danielle Racey on Facebook and Tumblr for giveaways and any questions.
@
danielleracey.tumblr.com
Danielle Racey encourages reviews and invites conversation from readers!