Chapter 3 - Unfortunate Event

The car rocked rhythmically, and all I remembered was that my thoughts soon began to drift off into something like a dream. But it wasn't a dream. It was a remembering of the dream I had yesterday.

Someone was holding a house party. I had no idea who it was. But I was there anyways. Clearly I did not have many friends at that party, since I was scavenging their kitchen for a drink.

Just then, I felt a pair of warm lips on the crook of my neck.

Turning my head around slightly, I felt the soft brown hair brush my cheek slightly.

"Hey Justin."

Justin said nothing, but continued kissing my neck.

"What are you doing?"

He lifted his head away from my neck and with a swift movement, brought his lips to meet mine.

I stood there in shock. What the hell? An 18 year old, not to mention my friend's brother, was kissing me! No I can't do this!

"Ju-Justin," I stuttered after pulling away slightly, "I can't, I can't-"

He used his dark brown eyes to stare into mine. His long eyelashes folded slightly over those sparkling brown orbs.

As if they had captured me in a trance, I leaned back in and filled the space between us. Those eyes, that hair, it's all too-

A piercing pain shot through the bridge of my nose, and I found my face planted on a surface that was most probably the floor of the car, my body curled together as if I had just done a forward roll.

I put my arms out and pushed myself in an upright position, leaning on something sturdy but rather soft and cushion like. I'm guessing it's the back of the driver's seat.

Rubbing my eyes once, I opened them. White light completely filled my vision and I could see nothing. I held my hands in front of me, but nothing in my view changed, it was still a blank canvas of strikingly bright white. It hurt, so I closed my eyes, and returned back into darkness.

"Wha-" I opened my mouth to speak, but the only sound that came out was a raspy growl. I tried once again, but no words came out and it only made my throat hurt.

Suddenly I heard the car door open and a soothing female voice said, "Hey come on out, I've called the emergency already. You guys will be alright."

Emergency? We will be alright!? What the hell!?

I felt a pair of hands grab my arm and gently guide me out of the car. I once again tried to open my eyes and see what was going on. I managed to catch sight of the auburn curls of the woman in front of me, but that's all I could see, everything else was still painstakingly blinding.

The woman led me over to this place and told me to sit down and relax. Being unable to see anything, I followed her instructions.

A few minutes later I heard sirens wailing as tires screeched and stopped somewhere nearby. Then it hit me.

Car crash.

Immediately all the confusion inside of me turned into fear and panic, and tears began to stream down my face. As I silently sobbed, I realised my vision was clearing. Still blurry, but clearing out.

I was leaning against a tree at the side of the road. Our car seemed to have crashed head to head with a gray van. My unclear gaze flickered around the area, and I spotted my mother limping towards one of the ambulances, using the support of the woman that had helped me over to this tree just now.

Then I spotted my father. He was clutching his stomach as he climbed out of the car. Immediately he stumbled and reached out to a nearby tree for support. His face was etched with a look of pain, but no one was helping him. I was just about to call out for someone to help my father when all these people, I don't even know them, rushed up to me and ushered me into the ambulance. Sitting down on the bench in the ambulance, I looked around in awe. I had never been in an ambulance before, and all the lights were either red or blue, not the normal white-yellow color.

"Do you have difficulty speaking?" A woman asked me.

"No." I managed to whisper, my sentence still voiceless and very raspy. So much for having no difficulty speaking.

"Does it hurt to move? Does it hurt anywhere?"

I frowned. Why are they even asking me this?!

"M-My d-dad-" I said through coughs, trying to clear my voice from the croaky sound.

The woman patted me on the shoulder. "Your dad will be fine."

"No p-please, my dad," I begged, half whispering, not wanting to hear my weird voice.

She sighed. "Alright alright, we'll go check on your father."

Outside amongst the wreckage of cars, my mother was lifted onto a stretcher. Some people slowly carried her over to the ambulance I was in and wheeled her in with me.

Her eyebrows were knitted together in pain, but when she saw me, a smile - a forced smile -appeared on her face, as if to reassure me.

An emergency medical technician climbed into the ambulance with us, shutting the door and sitting down on the seat opposite to me. She took one glance at me and immediately went insane.

"Oh no are you okay? How does your face feel? Does it hurt to move it?"

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. What was the big deal about my face? Was I so ugly that people thought I had serious injuries or failed plastic surgery? Were they mocking me? Why do I feel like Auggie from Wonder right now?

"I feel fine," I started, then immediately shutting my mouth after the raw, croaky voice came out of my mouth again.

The technician, who was once again a female, smiled at me. "Don't worry, you've just been through a big fright. Your voice will recover once you calm down," She paused, then added "And after you drink some water."

I nodded and took my gaze off of her, and instead looked around the ambulance instead. I'm pretty sure everything was white, but because of all the red and blue lights, it felt as if I was in an anaglyph 3D movie.

The ambulance was moving amazingly steadily. I knew it was moving, because they were obviously in a rush to get me and my mother to the hospital, but otherwise, I felt no bumps, no change of speed, no jerks, no unbalances- the movement of the ambulance was unbelievably smooth. But then looking down at the makeshift bed that my mother was lying on, the wheels were jittering and jumping around, as if the ride was very rocky.

Is it just me?

Soon, we arrived at the hospital. The ambulance door opened and I stepped out and followed the medical technicians into some sort of hall, and watched my mother get wheeled in along with me.

But not my father. The ambulance he was in was parked down next to us, but I didn't even get to catch a glimpse of him before he was hurried into some other doorway.

Looking at the glass door, I suddenly realised why everyone had been so concerned with my face. There was blood all over my nose, cheeks, eyes, hands- It looked as if something had impaled my face. But my face was completely fine. It was just the blood that made it look so horrifying.

"Your mother will be going in for a quick check up before we decide what to do. Please take a seat and wait outside here." A lady dressed in a nurse uniform stated politely before following some people into a room that my mother was in.

I sat there on the orange seat for a while, before I decided I was going to go wash my face. Seriously, I did not want people walking in from the entrance of the hospital and seeing this bloody zombie-looking girl just sitting there staring lifelessly into space.

Standing up, I looked around, observing my surroundings. Bathroom, bathroom, bathroom… My eyes found a bathroom sign hanging from the ceiling and quickly followed it's direction.

I pushed the door open and caught a glimpse of my blood-stained face, with most of the crimson tint gathered around my nose. Nosebleed, I'm guessing, from my face plant onto the floor of the car.

Turning the tap open, I splashed water onto my face and watched as the clear liquid turned red with the stains of blood. Gradually, the water stopped changing color. Looking up at the mirror again, my face was back to normal.

If not a little bit swollen.

My chin is pointed and my jawline is soft but prominent. Large almond shaped eyes are carved into my face, a bruise developing on my right cheekbone. A small, delicate nose sticks out from the middle of my sun-tanned face, hints of blood completely erased.

Walking out of the bathroom, I headed back to the seat where the nurse had told me to stay. There was no way they would've finished the checkup in 2 minutes. So sitting back down, I took out the only thing I had with me: My phone. Or at least, I thought that was the only thing I had.

Underneath the orange seat I was sitting on was my black Nike sports bag. The emergency medical technician must've taken it out of the car and put it beside me when I came in.

But anyways, I clicked open my phone. I still had 73%. A decent amount. But an Instagram notification caught my eye.

M4rc0BOi has sent you a message.

What is this witchcraft. M4rc0BOi? What kind of grammar is that? Spelling? Grammar? Hello?

Oh wait that's perfect spelling nevermind. M4rc0BOi. Everyone spells like that.

But M4rc0BOi… That sounds familiar.

Okay. M4rc0BOi is my previous crush. Ex crush. Whatever you want to call it. He is in the grade above me (sigh, older guys), and I started crushing on him since middle school, and it only ended a few months ago, A.K.A the start of my sophomore year.

Let's just say Marco is one of the most popular guys in his year. Captain of football/soccer (whatever you British or American people call it), best cross-country runner in the school, and one of the fastest on the track team. I'd be surprised if he wasn't the popular guy of his grade.

Flicking open my instagram direct messages, I clicked onto our chat. My eyes quickly skimmed through our previous conversations, which were just some casual conversations we'd had about sports. That was our common topic.

Back to the point: Why was he texting me? For those 3 years of my crush on him, we only ever talked when a sport event was coming up, specifically during the track season. Why text me now, with no context?

Then I looked down at the message he had just sent me. Well, not just. It was sent about 2 hours ago when I was still sitting PEACEFULLY on the car with my parents. Anyways.

M4rc0BOi : "Hi."

Wow. So creative. Hi.

Well I suppose there really was nothing better to say then "Hi". What did I expect? "ILYSM BAE let's go out together!"? NO WAY. Only happens in fairytales guys. Tapping onto the message bar, I prepared to give a reply. But then my heart skipped a beat, and something in my mind told me to think of a witty reply that would impress him.

Nah, I stay true to my heart, which told me to be natural. So, I quickly typed in "Hey" without any effort and sent it. There we go. Mission accomplished. Woohoo time to go home and have some tea and biscuits.

Oh wait hold up I'm in the hospital. Sad.

I stared down blankly at my lonely little message. There was no "seen" written underneath the message in italics.

Oh no. I must've said something wrong. EXISTENTIAL CRISIS ACTIVATED!!!

Who am I kidding, not everyone is on Instagram 24/7 like me. Actually, even I'm not online 24/7. But I know who is.

Swiping out of my chat with Marco, I clicked into my second most recent direct messages: Grace Miller.

Grace Miller, I love that girl. We've known each other for basically our whole lives, 15 years, ever since we were born. Well okay, she was born in New York and I was born in California, but hey we still met before our first birthday. Our parents were best friends, and we grew up as best friends. We were very different, yes, incredibly different, but it couldn't stop our sisterly love. After all, she was, well, what would you call it, a major participant in the popular squad. In fact, she was basically right at the top of the popularity chart. Me? I wouldn't be all the way down at the bottom, I was relatively well-liked and known around the school, but in no way did I ever take part in their popular activities. Apart from my parents, Grace was always the first person I would go to whenever something significant happened in my life.

In the usual tone I use to talk to Grace, I began typing my message. "DUDE I JUST GOT INTO A CAR CRASH AND NOW I'M IN THE HOSPITAL! MY MOM'S DOING A CHECKUP ON HER LEG AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THE AMBULANCE BROUGHT MY DAD!"

The moment I sent it, the word "seen" popped up underneath the message. Damn this girl is online 24/7. Soon after, the italicized words "Typing…" floated onto the screen. In less than 10 seconds, a reply came.

gracexxmiller : "OH MY GOD NO WAY! YOU STAY STRONG OKAY? I AM COMING RIGHT NOW!"

A smile spread across my face. This girl is way too bubbly and hyperactive for her own good but that's why I love her. Staring at her reply for a few seconds, I decided to type something back.

ally_levi : "Marco texted me, btw."

Immediately I got a reply. Again.

gracexxmiller : "Ooh. So I would say… Unlucky day?"

I smiled at this reply. Lucky or unlucky? Obviously, it was unlucky that I got into a car crash, and it was unlucky that my ex crush only texted me when I stopped having a crush on him. But it was lucky that I had survived the car crash and I'm lucky that some guy I (used to) like actually bothered to text me. Still looking on the bright side here.

ally_levi : "I'd say lucky. After all, if it was unlucky, I wouldn't be here texting you."

gracexxmiller : "Aw no don't say that! By the way, I'm right at the entrance of the hospital."

Wow that girl got here FAST, man. That was like what, less than 10 minutes?

I turned my head to the right and there she was, walking in from the automatic doors. Her wavy brown to blonde ombre was hastily parted down the center, but her outfit and makeup still looked perfect. Grace Miller just being Grace Miller.

The moment her eyes made contact with mine, her small little feet began carrying her small little body in what was called "sprinting" towards me. Before I could even say hi, I was attacked by a suffocatingly tight hug with her arms around my head instead of my body since I was sitting down.

I was beginning to wonder if she'd ever let go.

"Ally! Oh my god I'm so worried my parents wanted to come immediately after I told them what happened and I just can't believe this would happen to my best friend this is only suppose to happen in movies and tv shows why is it happening in real life seriously though you're so brave-"

"Grace Grace Grace… Just stop." I smiled at her, my mood already improving with that long, superfast continuous sentence of hers. She returned the smile and instead sat down next to me.

Her parents walked over to the two of us and immediately her mom embraced me in a hug. Grace takes on her mother, they were both rather petite.

"Allyson I'm so glad you're okay! Where are your parents? What's going on?" Her mother immediately asked once she let go of me. Grace's father was just standing slightly behind her, looking around as if to search for any sign of my parents.

"My mom seems to have some problem with her ankle so the doctors are giving her a quick checkup before they decide how to take action, while my dad…" I trailed off. I didn't really know where my dad was and what had happened to him. I did see him clutching his stomach in pain, but that's all I knew.

A worried look immediately appeared onto my godmother's face. "Oh no. He's not…"

"No no no, I think he will live." I said hopefully, not knowing what to believe. Was he okay? Was he doing surgery? Nobody's told me anything.

Her parents seemed slightly more relieved and sat down on the seats next to Grace. Slightly more relaxed. They still had frowns on their faces and they were rapidly looking around the hospital waiting room.

I guess at this time of "minor crisis" you couldn't really relax. Well unless you're me that is, because I'm just casually sitting on the cushioned chair not really knowing what to think. Should I panic? Panic about what? Should I cry? Why would I need to cry? Should I be stressed? What to be stressed about? Sometimes I feel like my emotions don't like me so I always look like I'm bored or simply neutral.

The four of us sat in silence. None of us really knew what to say, and maybe not saying anything was the better option. Sometimes company, acknowledgement and an act of kindness and care was what we need in times of darkness. Not words. There are a lot of things words couldn't explain.

The moment I saw Grace and her parents walk into the hospital, I had immediately felt better. Because I knew, that in this world, there were people who cared and would come to stand by my side no matter what trouble I was going through. And this relationship was mutual. If they were ever in trouble, our family would come to their aid as quickly as possible too. Our family-like love is what bonded us together and kept us strong even at the hardest of times, and we all need love like that in our lives.

Just then, I spotted a familiar face coming down the hallway in a wheelchair.

"Oh my mom's here!" I said, pointing over to the direction of where she was coming from.

Grace's parents stood up as her wheelchair approached us. The three adults got into a full blown conversation, while me and Grace just sat there staring at them. Same with the nurse. After a while, the obviously very bored nurse just left.

"So what's the problem?"

"I've got a minor bone fracture on my left ankle but a cast will do. It should heal in around a month. They've confirmed that it's a minor issue so I'm currently on hold."

"How long will that take?"

"I'm not sure. From three hours to two days, maybe? I have no idea. But I will be getting a ward for now so that's good. Allyson can probably go home. I don't want her in the hospital stressing out for a whole day." My mother gave me a small, reassuring smile. Her dark brown hair was like mine, but shorter and less smooth. Years of stress in her previous jobs had worn her out. Her skin, unlike mine, was smooth and nearly perfect, if not for a few wrinkles peeking out here and there. I obviously didn't take on her skin. My worst acne breakout years had past, but I still get acne and zits, and the scars take so long to fade. They do fade eventually, but it takes a really long time.

A scar stood out on my mother's forehead, almost like Harry Potter, except it wasn't a bright red cut, it was a part of her skin that curved slightly inwards due to an accident when she was young. She told me the story a few times, and it took me so long to finally remember the whole thing.

My mother was a huge nerd when she was in school. People would trash talk her behind her back, they were jealous of her good scores, and she only had two friends. One was a shy and quiet girl who was rather boring, but trustworthy. The other one was wild, crazy, outgoing and one of the popular kids. Whenever my mother had something on her mind, she would tell the quiet but boring friend. When she wanted to have fun, she went to the outgoing friend.

Once, at 7 years old, my mother was about to take a bath when she saw her friends outside and wanted to join them. So she left the bath water running and went out to play, telling her mother (my grandmother) that she would be back in 5 minutes. But she went out for 30 minutes, completely forgetting about the bath.

When she came back, she heard water running. Oh no, she had thought to herself, racing upstairs and finding herself a flooded bathroom. In panic, she hurriedly took a step forwards to turn off the tap, but instead, she slipped on the wet bathroom floor and fell forwards, her forehead landing first onto the corner of the sink counter. Immediately blood began spilling everywhere, staining the clear water a dark shade of crimson. But my mother, even in a time like this where her head was in a complete bloody mess, slammed her hand onto the tap and turned it off.

And I might add this wasn't something that had happened in the modern times, it was back in the 1970s, and my mother's family wasn't rich. Both of my grandparents were factory workers, and their income was decent. Just enough to feed my mother and her older brother. The house was provided by the state. And the water? My mother had just wasted almost a month's supply of bathwater.

My grandmother had found my mother lying in the mess of a bathroom with blood gushing out of her head. She was a very strong woman and was very opinionated, and she didn't even give as much as a gasp when she saw her daughter in that state. She just called the emergency, and my mother went to the hospital. She got three stitches on her forehead, and though the stitches had faded, the skin couldn't return to its previous state.

"Allyson can stay with us for now. We can go pick up Maxwell too, wherever he is." Grace's mother offered kindly, while Grace glanced at me with excitement. It wasn't the first time we were going to have a sleepover, but we both knew that this time I would be staying for much longer.

Mother smiled at the Miller family gratefully. "That would be great, thank you. I don't know what I would do without you all. Ally can you push me to my ward? You can leave afterwards."

I moved around Mr. and Mrs. Miller and placed my hands onto the two handles behind my mother's wheelchair. "Show me the way." I said.

As my mother guided me to her ward, Grace and her parents stayed close behind us. After taking the elevator and twisting around the many hallways of floor number 3, we finally got to my mother's ward, which was (lucky for her) a private ward. A nurse helped her settle down onto the bed and prop her leg up, and soon after she was comfortable, she began urging me to leave.

"Allyson I don't want you to stay in such a stressful and tiring atmosphere. You're perfectly unharmed from the accident, so just go back with Grace and try to relax! Mom and dad will be fine don't worry." She said, grabbing a book from her bedside table. It's been only a few minutes and she already looks like she's at home. Just then, she added "Oh and when you're explaining things to Maxwell, try not to worry him. We aren't in huge trouble so you can just say it's a small accident. Maybe I can set him up for a sleepover with Marcus too."

I immediately began thinking about 9 year old Maxwell, my younger brother. He was supposed to be in a birthday party right now. We were supposed to pick him up along with another friend of his from his friend's house and bring them over to the party. That plan was spoiled, but at least they were in a safe place. His friend's parents probably arranged a different way to get to the party. Or they simply didn't go.

"Where are we going to go to find him?" I asked. "Do you think he���s at the party or did they not go?"

My mom paused her flipping through the pages of her novel. She looked up at me, frowning for a second. "Can you hand me my phone? I need to call Deborah."

I turned around over to the seats that Grace and her parents were sitting on, and dug through my mom's bag that was furthest to the left. Grabbing her phone, I handed it over to her. "What are you going to say to Marcus's mom?" I asked. Marcus was the friend Maxwell was going to the party with.

"I'm just gonna ask her where they are and tell her there was a small family emergency so we couldn't make it."

I watched my mother select the phone number in her contacts list and call Deborah, Marcus's mother.

Standing there, I began drifting off into my long spiral of thoughts. Why would Marco text me? Does he want to be friends? Does he want to ask how the basketball team is doing? Or most unlikely, does he have a crush on me? I know it's weird that I'm still thinking about boys even at this time, but if you're a girl you'd probably understand- Boys are a topic to think about anywhere and anytime. Especially if your ex crush had texted you earlier in the day.

Just then, I heard my mom click off her phone. "So what's up?" I asked her.

"They're at Hailey Welsh's birthday party. I'll write down the address for Helena and she can take you guys there to pick Maxwell up. Deborah said it's fine if Maxwell stays with them, but ask him first. Plus, the party's still going so you guys can have some fun too." My mother explained, picking up a pen from her bedside table and scribbling some words onto her notebook before ripping the page out. Grace's mother stepped forwards and took the note from my mom.

Hailey Welsh… Why does that name sound so familiar?

"Wait mom, Hailey Welsh… The girl in Maxwell's class?"

"Yes, I think she has a lot of siblings too."

Suddenly Grace decided to speak. "Wait, Hailey WELSH? Welsh as in Alexander Welsh?!���

My eyes widened. Crap she was right.

Alexander Welsh was the most popular guy in the grade above us. Everybody knew him. He acted rather cold, giving off mysterious vibes, but was also a big jock. Some people would call him the player who tried to break as many hearts as possible, but underneath that facade was a kind, trustworthy boy who really wanted love and care from others. He was the eldest in his family of three younger sisters, and it was his job to take care of them. His parents were always out working, and when they came home, their attention would all be put onto the young girls instead of him. He just wanted recognition.

I was pretty good friends with him. We met in primary school, and we were just like siblings to each other. Our birthdays were very close and our thoughts were pretty similar. But being with him was weird. Why? Puberty hit him just right. He's now damn good-looking as hell. Nowadays, we didn't have much to talk about, and usually we just sat in silence. Most of our interactions were just saying hi to each other in the hallways at school.

But now I'm going to his house for his sister's birthday party.