May 25, 2013
I woke up to lots of noise downstairs; the front door opening followed by loud talking and shuffling. It was about six in the evening and the sky outside was dark with the mix of night and a rainstorm. I had fallen asleep after my fights with Mom and Sam. My anger was diffused for the time being but I knew it could ignite again in a moments notice.
I walked over to my door and cracked it open to listen. Somebody was here; they spoke hurriedly with my mother. I couldn’t tell the topic of conversation so I walked out of my room quietly and stepped down the stairs silently. When I got to the bottom I peeked around the corner into the living room.
Sam was shaking as he kneeled over the couch where Emily was laying. Mom was cleaning Emily’s face with a rag that looked soaked with blood. I gasped at the sight of Emily like this, forgetting for a moment all that had happened.
Sam turned and looked at my father who was standing in the kitchen doorway, his back to the room, talking on the phone. Seth was no where in sight but Jared—a kid that had gone to school with me and Sam, but dropped out early this year—was standing behind the couch. Paul came in the door then—he had also dropped out—and spoke quietly to Jared. What were they doing here?
I exhaled slowly, trying to be quieter. Sam heard anyways and turned around, spotting me. He spoke a few words to my mother, then stood and walked toward me. I sat down on the stairs, leaning against the wall. Emily being hurt had melted my hardened feelings. I couldn’t not care about her, even though I still felt hate towards her for what she had done. Suddenly, I felt exhausted.
“What happened?” I whispered and dad turned for a moment to look at me. I glanced around the room again, seeing that Emily was asleep.
“Emily, uh, got hurt,” Sam explained weakly. His eyes gleaned as tears threatened to spill over.
“Well duh,” I said back, annoyed.
“I can’t do anything more to help, Sam. I don’t have the supplies. She needs stitches. Maybe even staples,” Mom told Sam.
Dad spoke then to Sam. “I—uh, talked to some people . . . . I think you should take her to Forks. We will go too.” There seemed to be some hidden meaning in his words that Sam obviously understood but I didn’t.
Sam sighed and looked toward Emily. “Fine.” Although Sam said fine, he himself didn’t look like it was okay with him. He began trembling and as it grew stronger, Paul hurried towards him.
“Sam, come on. We have to go, ” Paul said loud and demanding. Sam still shook but allowed himself to slowly be led outside.
Weird. Sam and Jared hadn’t ever been friends when I was around. Neither had he and Paul.
Mom waited in the doorway and looked towards me. I stood up and took a few steps toward her, still not having decided whether or not I was going. Jared came around to the front of the couch and Mom moved out of the way, pulling on her shoes. He wrapped a blanket around Emily and carried her toward the door, only pausing for a moment as Mom opened the door. Dad was already outside starting the car.
Mom, knowing me well said, “You’re welcome to come with or stay. Seth is staying over at a friend’s house tonight so you don’t need to watch him.”
I nodded and followed her outside into the rain. In the van, Emily was laying next to Jared in the middle bench of seats, with Dad driving and Mom next to him, their hands intertwined over the middle console. I climbed onto the back row of seats and sat sideways so my legs would fit. I sighed, regretting my decision already. We drove through Forks to the hospital. Most of our tribe didn’t come here for the hospital, and some people didn’t even use American stores or anything—but the hospital especially was off-limits. Usually it was the older people that had a problem with it, but even our family preferred La Push’s resources over American’s. This was an emergency I guess, so was there an exception? Seth and I were not even born in Forks but at home in La Push.
Sam didn’t ever care before about using American stores instead of buying in La Push. But now, Sam acted like going to the hospital was the worst thing that could occur. I wondered silently what had changed. Last summer, we had gone on a picnic together in the park in Forks, and I had gotten stung by a bee. When it stared to swell, Sam started freaking out and saying he was taking me the the hospital. I wouldn’t let him, since I had been stung before and it was no big deal. We argued for a few minutes and then compromised by cutting our picnic short and driving home to my mom. She laughed at our story and then put some ointment on my sting. A minute later it was fine and I was telling Sam, “I told you so.”
We pulled up in front of the hospital and Jared raced in with Emily. My parents followed, slower, but still quickly. I dragged behind, torn between caring for and loving Emily and hating both her and Sam. The nurse ushered Jared and Emily into a room and us into the waiting room.