They forgot me. They forgot me when he fell to the ground, twitching and clutching his chest and they came with their lights flashing and took him away.
I close my eyes and huddle against the wall. My heart is thumping rhythmically in my chest. Ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum. My ears are ringing, blocking every other noise out. The world is acting like nothing has happened, like a little girl isn’t abandoned outside a shopping mall, but something has and she is.
One tear--one single tear--squeezes out the corner of my eye and rolls down my cheek, glistening and catching the warm afternoon light, and lands on the very tip of my tongue for the smallest of moments before it is absorbed back into my body.
That tear, though small, represents a waterfall of emotions. Afraid, uncertain, anxious, hurt , abandoned, and so much more. I want to be at the hospital, I want to be with him but at the same time I just want to curl up and vanish and never have to see him in a white cot in a white room hooked up to machines.
I can’t hide. I can’t face the world. I can’t breath. What can I do? Anything? Nothing? Everything?
I have to do something. So I slowly stand up and enter the mall, to call the hospital and ask for my father.