to sit up. A stream of red blood flowed from her
hand and arm. Confused, Parrish scrambled the rest of the way across
the bed and leaned over to help her up. Was she cut?
That’s when she
saw the broken vase. It must have gotten knocked over when she fell.
A pool of glass and water and tulips as red as her mother’s
blood all mingled on the floor under and around her mother’s
body.
There wasn’t a
lot of room between the bed and the wall, but Parrish managed to
squeeze through without stepping on her mom. She grabbed her hand and
tried to lift her back onto the bed. At first, her mom seemed to
help, pulling her weight against Parrish’s hand. But she only
made it an inch off the ground when her legs gave out and she tumbled
back into the broken glass on the floor.
Parrish looked around,
her stomach twisting.
She wasn’t strong
enough to pick her mom up and put her back in bed, but maybe if she
got lower, she could kind of push her up enough that she would be
able to pull herself up with her arms instead of her legs. When she
knelt, pinpricks of glass sunk into the flesh on Parrish’s
knees and the palms of her hands.
“I was trying to
get to the bathroom, but my legs just wouldn’t work,” her
mother said in a frail whisper, struggling to sit up. “I don’t
think I can stand up.”
The confusion in her
mother’s tone terrified her.
“I’m going
to put my hands under you. When I do, I want you to try to grab the
sheets and pull yourself up onto the bed, okay?” Parrish asked.
She used all her strength to lift up as her mother clawed at the
bedsheets. Slowly, her mom managed to pull herself far enough that
Parrish could get her on to the top of the large King-sized bed.
Parrish pulled the
comforter from the foot of the bed and tossed it into the corner. She
grabbed a pillow and used it to sweep the pieces of broken glass
aside as best she could. A sharp piece sliced into her heel and she
sucked a breath through her teeth. She lifted her foot and picked the
shard from her flesh, setting it on the bedside table with a clink.
Blood trickled from the wound, mingling with the pool of blood
already on the floor and all over the sheets.
Violent coughs shook
her mother’s body and she doubled over on the bed, her
shoulders trembling.
Parrish moved beside
her and put her arms around her mom’s shoulders, patting her
gently until the coughing stopped.
“I don’t
know what to do,” she said. “Do you want me to call a
doctor or something?”
Her mom shook her head
and lay back against the wet pillow. “I’m sure I’ll
be fine,” she said. “I just feel weak.”
Sweat dripped from her
mother’s forehead. Parrish raised her hand to touch her
mother’s cheek, then drew in a shallow breath.
She was burning up.
Water from the flowers
soaked the pink gown she wore, but her hair and neck were drenched in
sweat.
Parrish bit her lip,
every muscle in her face tense. She needed to find a thermometer.
Fast.
“I’ll be
right back.”
Her mother didn’t
even acknowledge her. She just lay there against the bed, her entire
body trembling.
Parrish ran toward the
bathroom, every footstep stinging as her bloody heel hit the ground.
Yesterday, her mom would have killed her for getting blood on the
expensive rug that covered part of the hardwood floors in the
bedroom. Tonight, though, it was the least important thing in the
world.
In the bathroom,
Parrish rummaged through cabinets and drawers, searching for both a
thermometer and a first aid kit. She needed a bandage for her foot,
and she needed enough to cover the worst scrapes on her mom’s
arms and legs.
She found a full box of
bandages in a drawer at the bottom of the vanity. Parrish grabbed a
handful and stuck them between her teeth. She’d put it on after
she found the thermometer.
There had to be one in
there somewhere.
A strangled cry sounded
from the next room. Parrish gripped the drawers tighter, pulling them
out so fast some of the contents
hand and arm. Confused, Parrish scrambled the rest of the way across
the bed and leaned over to help her up. Was she cut?
That’s when she
saw the broken vase. It must have gotten knocked over when she fell.
A pool of glass and water and tulips as red as her mother’s
blood all mingled on the floor under and around her mother’s
body.
There wasn’t a
lot of room between the bed and the wall, but Parrish managed to
squeeze through without stepping on her mom. She grabbed her hand and
tried to lift her back onto the bed. At first, her mom seemed to
help, pulling her weight against Parrish’s hand. But she only
made it an inch off the ground when her legs gave out and she tumbled
back into the broken glass on the floor.
Parrish looked around,
her stomach twisting.
She wasn’t strong
enough to pick her mom up and put her back in bed, but maybe if she
got lower, she could kind of push her up enough that she would be
able to pull herself up with her arms instead of her legs. When she
knelt, pinpricks of glass sunk into the flesh on Parrish’s
knees and the palms of her hands.
“I was trying to
get to the bathroom, but my legs just wouldn’t work,” her
mother said in a frail whisper, struggling to sit up. “I don’t
think I can stand up.”
The confusion in her
mother’s tone terrified her.
“I’m going
to put my hands under you. When I do, I want you to try to grab the
sheets and pull yourself up onto the bed, okay?” Parrish asked.
She used all her strength to lift up as her mother clawed at the
bedsheets. Slowly, her mom managed to pull herself far enough that
Parrish could get her on to the top of the large King-sized bed.
Parrish pulled the
comforter from the foot of the bed and tossed it into the corner. She
grabbed a pillow and used it to sweep the pieces of broken glass
aside as best she could. A sharp piece sliced into her heel and she
sucked a breath through her teeth. She lifted her foot and picked the
shard from her flesh, setting it on the bedside table with a clink.
Blood trickled from the wound, mingling with the pool of blood
already on the floor and all over the sheets.
Violent coughs shook
her mother’s body and she doubled over on the bed, her
shoulders trembling.
Parrish moved beside
her and put her arms around her mom’s shoulders, patting her
gently until the coughing stopped.
“I don’t
know what to do,” she said. “Do you want me to call a
doctor or something?”
Her mom shook her head
and lay back against the wet pillow. “I’m sure I’ll
be fine,” she said. “I just feel weak.”
Sweat dripped from her
mother’s forehead. Parrish raised her hand to touch her
mother’s cheek, then drew in a shallow breath.
She was burning up.
Water from the flowers
soaked the pink gown she wore, but her hair and neck were drenched in
sweat.
Parrish bit her lip,
every muscle in her face tense. She needed to find a thermometer.
Fast.
“I’ll be
right back.”
Her mother didn’t
even acknowledge her. She just lay there against the bed, her entire
body trembling.
Parrish ran toward the
bathroom, every footstep stinging as her bloody heel hit the ground.
Yesterday, her mom would have killed her for getting blood on the
expensive rug that covered part of the hardwood floors in the
bedroom. Tonight, though, it was the least important thing in the
world.
In the bathroom,
Parrish rummaged through cabinets and drawers, searching for both a
thermometer and a first aid kit. She needed a bandage for her foot,
and she needed enough to cover the worst scrapes on her mom’s
arms and legs.
She found a full box of
bandages in a drawer at the bottom of the vanity. Parrish grabbed a
handful and stuck them between her teeth. She’d put it on after
she found the thermometer.
There had to be one in
there somewhere.
A strangled cry sounded
from the next room. Parrish gripped the drawers tighter, pulling them
out so fast some of the contents
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