An original
Let's face it, I'm not revising this anymore.
This was the second story I had due in my creative writing class. I'll probably get critiqued on it next week sometime, but I doubt I'll actually change anything. But if you see something that needs to be fixed, then let me know and I might do something about it because I really care what y'all think. Otherwise, it's staying like this. I'm working on the other story I wrote for that class, since that revision is due at the end of the semester. I'll post it when it's ready.
So, for your enjoyment, well maybe not since it's depressing, here is an original short story from me! I want to thank my lovely J-sisters, Jonelle and Jenn, for helping me with this!
Ghost of a Good Thing
The machines finally stopped breathing for her and the deep, consistent breaths were a comforting sound. The night before, the doctor said Emma might not make it through to the next day, and now here she was, inhaling and exhaling on her own.
Michelle was sitting in the only chair in the room watching her sister fight for her life. Emma was out running errands for her upcoming wedding in a few weeks when a diesel truck ran a red light and hit the front of her car, driver’s side. It seems all Michelle kept hearing was how lucky Emma was to be alive. From her family, it was called a miracle. But Emma hadn’t even woken up yet, where was the miracle?
Michelle had been in her office, at the paper company she manages, during a regular day when she got the call. It was their oldest brother Charlie who gave her the bad news. He said their mom got the call from the hospital and she sounded as if she was in hysterics. He was on his way to pick up mom and they would be in the hospital in about twenty minutes. He spoke so quickly that Michelle couldn’t have gotten a word in, even if she wanted to. But she couldn’t speak. It even took a few minutes to form a coherent thought. Michelle remembered holding the phone trying to rationalize what had just happened long after Charlie had hung up. When it finally clicked that Emma, her favorite person in the whole world, was hurt, she grabbed her purse and ran out the door. Her jacket stayed on the back of the chair, but the quarter mile Michelle walked in the forty degree weather to her car didn’t seem to touch her. She was numb, inside and out. The three hours Michelle, Charlie and their mom waited for some news of Emma’s surgery, was the most agonizing moment of Michelle’s life.
But she was here with her sister now, watching her chest rise and fall. It was much quieter now that the breathing machine was gone. The only other sound in the room was the beeping of the heart monitor. It had been two days since the accident and Michelle only left twice to shower and nap. She was never gone more than two hours. She wanted to be there in case Emma woke up or if something…else happened. Their mom hadn’t been feeling well and it was apparent enough that the nurses took notice. She was practically shoved out of the hospital to get some rest every night. Charlie couldn’t get out of work as easily as Michelle, but he came for a few hours after he got off.
It seemed appropriate that Michelle was the one here most of the time anyway; everyone knew how close they were. And she didn’t mind waking up with a crick in her neck or even consuming the almost inedible hospital food, as long as she was with Emma. This was her sister, the one person in Michelle’s life who she could always count on, even when she didn’t deserve it.
Michelle was the youngest of the three children, born only one year after Emma. And the two grew up like twins. Charlie was four years older than Michelle, and he played the part of protective older brother well, but the girls were in a world of their own throughout their childhood. Emma was always the calm, collected and smarter of the girls. Michelle was the wild one who never thought before she did anything. They balanced each other out, and they were always together.
The only time they separated was in high school. Michelle was dating someone Emma didn’t approve of and Michelle ended up accusing her sister of trying to steal her boyfriend. It was a silly fight that didn’t make sense to anyone. The useless boyfriend eventually got Michelle pregnant and swiftly walked out of her life. They had only done it once after he convinced her everything would be okay. Michelle was strong in her faith back then, and she believed sex before marriage was wrong. But she was mad at her sister and she needed an outlet. And what were the chances that something bad would happen? It wasn’t until Michelle realized she’d had a miscarriage before breaking down and apologizing to her sister. The compassionate Emma quickly forgave her, no questions asked.
It was two o’clock in the morning and Michelle was exhausted. She was convinced that the chair was ruining her back and she had to get up and stretch. As soon as she did, her back popped all the way down her spine.
“Hey, here’s an idea: why don’t you wake up so I can go home and get some proper rest?” Her phone went off for the thousandth time that day. “And then your crazy boyfriend can stop filling my inbox and fill yours instead.” Emma’s fiancé had been in Europe the past week on a business trip. He wanted to get as much work done as possible before the wedding so they could have a long honeymoon. But there was a snow storm in Belgium and all flights had been cancelled. So he had been texting Michelle every few minutes to see if there was any change. It was getting annoying, but if they traded places, Michelle would be doing the exact same thing.
She decided to chance leaving the room for a few minutes to take a walk. She nodded to the nurses and walked down the aisle to the elevators. Visiting hours had ended long ago, but the hospital allowed one family member to stay the night. But even if they didn’t, she would have found a way to stay. Without thinking, Michelle hit the third floor button: the maternity ward.
It always calmed her down to watch the newborn babies in the nursery. It may have seemed that someone hit the pause button on Michelle’s life, but this was proof that the world kept going. She would stare at the children and think about the child she never had. It wouldn’t have been a wise decision to keep a baby while still in high school, and she knew it would have been given up for adoption. But it still hurt to think that maybe it was her fault because she didn’t even want the baby. After she told her sister what happened, they prayed all night, asking God’s forgiveness. But even then, there was something in the back of Michelle’s mind that made her think He didn’t care.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” A woman - she looked to be in her late thirties - in a hospital robe had snuck up on Michelle. She was staring at one of the babies in the front with a sort of awe in her expression.
“They really are. Is one of them yours?” Michelle asked.
The woman pointed to a child wrapped in a pink blanket who looked to be sleeping peacefully.
“Her name is Faith. My husband and I had been trying for over a decade and thought it might never happen. But we never gave up. We believed God would bring us our angel and he did. We kept the faith,” she smiled and raised an eyebrow at Michelle, as if asking if she got where they picked the name.
“Congratulations,” Michelle said quietly to the glass. She wanted to smile at the woman, but she knew it would be forced. At the mention of God, she winced on the inside. She hadn’t been too happy with the man upstairs lately and preferred that it not be brought up. In fact, she wasn’t even sure if God existed anymore. If He did, He was a complete ass.
“What about you? Do you have one here?”
“Um, no. I don’t have any kids.” The woman looked at her questioningly. “My sister is in the ICU. She was in a car accident,” Michelle told her, guessing that the woman was curious.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. What’s her name?” the woman asked.
Michelle thought that was an awkward question, but answered anyway, “Emma.”
“Ah, I love that name. It’s my favorite Jane Austen book.” Michelle figured that she had a confused expression on her face because the woman then said, “I asked because I’ll be praying for her and it’s always better to know the name to lift up to God.”
“Oh. Thanks.” Whether she believed in God or not, it was a nice gesture from this stranger.
“How did you keep your faith?” Michelle suddenly asked. She didn’t know where it came from, but she felt that she needed to know why people still believed. “After all that praying and not getting an answer, what made you still believe?”
The woman was looking into the nursery now. “How could we not? He never promised us that life would be easy, but as long as we have the faith, we would have everything that we needed. It’s His will that is done, not ours.”
This woman sounded so sure of herself. She probably never doubted that there was a God in her life. Why couldn’t Michelle feel like that anymore?
“Sure, it was hard at times, but we would always get confirmation that He was taking care of us,” she continued.
“Confirmation?”
“I said we never gave up hope, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t come close. A couple of miscarriages, failed infertility treatments, it was difficult.” A shadow had come over the woman’s face as she stared at her baby. “But every time we thought we were close to getting our wish, something in our lives would change for the worse and we were grateful not to have to bring a child into that environment. I may have been angry at God for not answering our prayers, but He knew what He was doing and He gave her to us when He was supposed to. The thing was, though we didn’t realize it at the time, He did answer our prayers.” She looked at Michelle. “It just wasn’t the answer we were looking for.” Her daughter started fussing and she looked back at her with pure joy on her face. “I’ve waited so long for her,” she said to the glass, so softly that Michelle wasn’t sure if she was meant to hear it.
Maybe this lady did know doubt after all. Maybe everyone went through this phase in their faith, but how long was it supposed to last? Michelle felt as if she’d been feeling this way her whole life. And maybe all those summers at church camp - when she would pray and cry because His presence was just so strong - were just for show, and she did it because that’s what everyone else was doing. It had to be a show, because if she was so sure that He existed and He was a part of her life, then there was no way she could ever question His existence.
“I need to get some rest. We’re taking her home tomorrow.” She smiled brilliantly at her new daughter. “I’ll be praying for Emma. Good night.” She turned to smile at her and walked away. Michelle almost stopped her to ask why she didn’t want to know her name, but changed her mind. Did she even want to be prayed for?
Michelle took one last look at the babies and headed back to her sister. But when she got there, the room was full of nurses frantically working over Emma.
“What’s happening,” she asked to everyone in the room.
“Her heart rate accelerated, but it seems to have settled down now.”
“What does that mean?”
“We’re not sure. The doctor should be here momentarily.”
The nurses left Michelle alone with her sister and gave her sad smiles on their way out. She supposed it was because tears had started falling down her face. Something terrible happened to her sister and she wasn’t here.
She rushed to the side of the bed and took Emma’s hand in hers. And the tears couldn’t be stopped. Her forehead came down to rest in the palm of her sister’s hand and she sobbed for who knows how long. She only stopped because she thought she felt movement from the Emma’s hand. She raised her head, sniffed, and stared at the hand. A finger twitched.
“Emma?” Her eyes moved to her sister’s face. And she could see her eyelids fluttering. “Em, it’s Shelly,” she told her, using the nicknames they’d used their whole lives.
“If you can hear me, squeeze my hand.” Nothing happened. “Squeeze my hand!” she said louder. Still nothing.
Michelle bent her head to Emma’s shoulder, the bandages on her head preventing her from connecting their foreheads. “Please,” she whispered, pleading. “Please, wake up for me.”
“Miss Watson?”
Michelle turned to see the doctor standing at the doorway. “She moved. I felt her hand move. She’s waking up,” she told him, not caring in the least that tears kept streaming down her face.
“Well, let’s take a look.”
He checked her pulse, put a light in her eyes and did whatever else doctors do for an exam. Michelle was mostly looking at Emma’s face for any sign of movement.
“I know she moved,” she quietly said to herself.
“She may have and that could mean she’s starting to wake up, but it seems her vitals have gone back to the way they were the last time I checked on her. We’re still just waiting. There’s nothing more I can do right now. But keep talking to her, it can’t hurt.” He patted her shoulder and walked out of the room.
“What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you awake yet?” she practically yelled at her sister and went to sit back in the chair. That was about all the voice she had left for the moment. “I’m here when you need me, Em. I’ll always be right here.”
Her phone had gone off multiple times in the last few minutes, as if he knew something was happening. “No change yet. Still hopeful,” she sent him. She wondered if she should’ve mentioned the movement, but what for? Apparently it meant nothing.
For the rest of the night, Michelle just sat there watching her sister. She didn’t want to miss anything in case she moved again. Occasionally she would reminisce about the good old days, when they were just children, to her sleeping sister. The days when their only worry was what mom made for dessert. Her tears had dried for the most part.
When she got tired of talking, her mind wandered to thoughts of the lady from the maternity ward. She wondered if her and her family were praying for Emma right now. Or, was her prayer what sparked Emma’s movement? Years ago, Michelle would have immediately jumped to that conclusion and known it was true. Today, she would like to believe that’s what happened. It was very coincidental that when, presumably, that woman went back to her room and prayed for her sister, Emma moved. But then why wouldn’t she have just woken up? Was it because Michelle didn’t have enough faith? If so, then why bother having her move at all?
She started thinking about when her crisis of faith started and wondered if she could pinpoint it. She could admit that after her miscarriage in high school, she thought about why God would put her through that. Back then, she supposed it was to learn her lesson: that sins have consequences. But she would go to church with her family on Sundays, attend youth groups every week and she would be reassured that all things happen for a reason. She was taught to just trust in the Lord.
But what’s been baffling her the most about her beliefs is the fact that she grew up with a family who wholeheartedly believed everything they were told about God and she didn’t know why she was different.
As she stared at her sister, she didn’t see the bandages covering her head, her bruised eyes, the needles in her arms, Michelle only saw this beautiful person who always put others before herself. She saw a stubborn woman who was convinced she would eventually save the world by feeding every homeless, hungry person on the street. A person who loved to sing, but made dogs howl every time she tried. A person who could never watch a movie about talking animals because she would cry when something bad happened to them. A person who loved unconditionally. A person who would never question the existence of her Maker.
More importantly, Michelle saw a woman who might never know how she really feels. Emma may have always been an understanding person, but she could never truly hide how she really felt. If Michelle told her that she was questioning her faith, Emma would say she wanted to talk about it while there was an obvious look of disappointment in her eyes. When Emma found out Michelle was pregnant in high school, she took it with such a grace that could fool anyone else who didn’t know her so well. Even after they prayed, Michelle could still see the disappointment shadow Emma’s face.
She had contemplated telling Emma for so long about how she was feeling, but she never had the courage. And now, if Emma came through, Michelle doubted she would ever be able to. She would continue on with the charade of going to church every Sunday and attending bible study on Thursday nights. Michelle knew enough of the bible to fool a lot of people. She felt bad about lying to such good people, but she figured she kept going to church in the hopes that it would spark something in her again. And if her sister made it through, perhaps she could believe it was a miracle.
“I don’t know what to do, Em. I need you to stay with me, to anchor me. If you leave, I don’t know if I’ll ever get my faith back. I don’t think I’ll ever want it back,” she whispered. She wondered if Emma could hear her. A part of her hoped she didn’t. “I may continue going to church for Mom’s sake, but that would be the only reason. And Charlie is always off doing his own thing, he wouldn’t even notice.” She grabbed Emma’s hand and stared at her fingers.
“Don’t you want me to want it?” Just as soon as she said the words, the heart monitor started beeping erratically. A nurse ran into the room and started messing with Emma’s wires.
“Now what?” Michelle asked.
“Ma’am, I need you to leave the room,” the nurse replied without looking at her.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong. Is she okay?” Michelle was frantic now. “Please, tell me!” Another nurse came up behind her, gently pushed her out of the room and closed the door on her.
“Emma,” she whispered as she stared at the door.
Michelle paced the hallway right outside Emma’s room, ignoring her phone. She couldn’t bear to tell him anything right now. More nurses ran into the room and then maybe a few doctors. And she had no idea what was happening
Finally, after what seemed like hours, though it was probably only minutes, the room started to empty.
“Well, how is she?” she asked to anyone who would listen. The doctor from before came up to her and pulled her to the side. “Well?” she asked again.
“I’m sorry. We did everything we could.” What? “She had a brain aneurysm. She was gone before the first nurse came into the room.”
“You mean…” Michelle stammered, not believing what she was hearing.
“Yes. You can go in and say your last goodbyes. Take as long as you need. I’m sorry.” With that, he walked away.
Michelle stood there. Emma was dead? But she moved. How could she be gone?
Slowly, she walked into the room. The heart monitor had been turned off, and the comforting breathing sound was gone. It was just…silent. She could feel the difference. It was colder. She was the only one in the room now. There were two bodies, but it was obvious that one of them was dead.
She stared at her sister. “You left me.” Michelle couldn’t take it. She ran as fast as she could out of the room.
She made it as far as the elevators before she broke down. Her back was against the wall when gut wrenching sobs escaped her. “No, no, no, no…” she started chanting. She didn’t know how loud she was and she didn’t care. Eventually, someone, probably a nurse, came and wrapped their arms around her. They both sat on the floor for awhile, until Michelle got tired of crying.
“Do you want to say your last goodbyes?” It was a nurse, the nicest one on that floor.
It took a second for Michelle to recognize she was talking to her before she replied, “Yes.”
They walked back into the room and the nurse left Michelle with her sister. “I know you’re gone and that you can’t hear me, but I need to say this. What the hell were you thinking? I need you.” Michelle stroked Emma’s arm. “I love you, Em. Always will.” She bent down to kiss Emma’s cheek and her heart shattered into what seemed like a million pieces.
Michelle walked out of that room wondering what she was going to tell her family. She realized that she didn’t pray once since she heard Emma was in an accident. Not even a “please, God.” Maybe that’s why she died. Frankly, Michelle didn’t much care anymore. On her way through the main lobby of the hospital, she thought she saw the lady from the maternity ward. It was obvious she was smiling. Michelle thought about running up to her and yelling to her that her stupid prayers didn’t work, but she was too exhausted. So she kept on walking.
As soon as she got into her car, her phone went off. “How is she?” the text read.
The reply: “She’s dead.”
In Michelle’s eyes, right now, God no longer meant anything to her. It was just a word, she thought as she turned the key and drove away.
This was the second story I had due in my creative writing class. I'll probably get critiqued on it next week sometime, but I doubt I'll actually change anything. But if you see something that needs to be fixed, then let me know and I might do something about it because I really care what y'all think. Otherwise, it's staying like this. I'm working on the other story I wrote for that class, since that revision is due at the end of the semester. I'll post it when it's ready.
So, for your enjoyment, well maybe not since it's depressing, here is an original short story from me! I want to thank my lovely J-sisters, Jonelle and Jenn, for helping me with this!
Ghost of a Good Thing
The machines finally stopped breathing for her and the deep, consistent breaths were a comforting sound. The night before, the doctor said Emma might not make it through to the next day, and now here she was, inhaling and exhaling on her own.
Michelle was sitting in the only chair in the room watching her sister fight for her life. Emma was out running errands for her upcoming wedding in a few weeks when a diesel truck ran a red light and hit the front of her car, driver’s side. It seems all Michelle kept hearing was how lucky Emma was to be alive. From her family, it was called a miracle. But Emma hadn’t even woken up yet, where was the miracle?
Michelle had been in her office, at the paper company she manages, during a regular day when she got the call. It was their oldest brother Charlie who gave her the bad news. He said their mom got the call from the hospital and she sounded as if she was in hysterics. He was on his way to pick up mom and they would be in the hospital in about twenty minutes. He spoke so quickly that Michelle couldn’t have gotten a word in, even if she wanted to. But she couldn’t speak. It even took a few minutes to form a coherent thought. Michelle remembered holding the phone trying to rationalize what had just happened long after Charlie had hung up. When it finally clicked that Emma, her favorite person in the whole world, was hurt, she grabbed her purse and ran out the door. Her jacket stayed on the back of the chair, but the quarter mile Michelle walked in the forty degree weather to her car didn’t seem to touch her. She was numb, inside and out. The three hours Michelle, Charlie and their mom waited for some news of Emma’s surgery, was the most agonizing moment of Michelle’s life.
But she was here with her sister now, watching her chest rise and fall. It was much quieter now that the breathing machine was gone. The only other sound in the room was the beeping of the heart monitor. It had been two days since the accident and Michelle only left twice to shower and nap. She was never gone more than two hours. She wanted to be there in case Emma woke up or if something…else happened. Their mom hadn’t been feeling well and it was apparent enough that the nurses took notice. She was practically shoved out of the hospital to get some rest every night. Charlie couldn’t get out of work as easily as Michelle, but he came for a few hours after he got off.
It seemed appropriate that Michelle was the one here most of the time anyway; everyone knew how close they were. And she didn’t mind waking up with a crick in her neck or even consuming the almost inedible hospital food, as long as she was with Emma. This was her sister, the one person in Michelle’s life who she could always count on, even when she didn’t deserve it.
Michelle was the youngest of the three children, born only one year after Emma. And the two grew up like twins. Charlie was four years older than Michelle, and he played the part of protective older brother well, but the girls were in a world of their own throughout their childhood. Emma was always the calm, collected and smarter of the girls. Michelle was the wild one who never thought before she did anything. They balanced each other out, and they were always together.
The only time they separated was in high school. Michelle was dating someone Emma didn’t approve of and Michelle ended up accusing her sister of trying to steal her boyfriend. It was a silly fight that didn’t make sense to anyone. The useless boyfriend eventually got Michelle pregnant and swiftly walked out of her life. They had only done it once after he convinced her everything would be okay. Michelle was strong in her faith back then, and she believed sex before marriage was wrong. But she was mad at her sister and she needed an outlet. And what were the chances that something bad would happen? It wasn’t until Michelle realized she’d had a miscarriage before breaking down and apologizing to her sister. The compassionate Emma quickly forgave her, no questions asked.
It was two o’clock in the morning and Michelle was exhausted. She was convinced that the chair was ruining her back and she had to get up and stretch. As soon as she did, her back popped all the way down her spine.
“Hey, here’s an idea: why don’t you wake up so I can go home and get some proper rest?” Her phone went off for the thousandth time that day. “And then your crazy boyfriend can stop filling my inbox and fill yours instead.” Emma’s fiancé had been in Europe the past week on a business trip. He wanted to get as much work done as possible before the wedding so they could have a long honeymoon. But there was a snow storm in Belgium and all flights had been cancelled. So he had been texting Michelle every few minutes to see if there was any change. It was getting annoying, but if they traded places, Michelle would be doing the exact same thing.
She decided to chance leaving the room for a few minutes to take a walk. She nodded to the nurses and walked down the aisle to the elevators. Visiting hours had ended long ago, but the hospital allowed one family member to stay the night. But even if they didn’t, she would have found a way to stay. Without thinking, Michelle hit the third floor button: the maternity ward.
It always calmed her down to watch the newborn babies in the nursery. It may have seemed that someone hit the pause button on Michelle’s life, but this was proof that the world kept going. She would stare at the children and think about the child she never had. It wouldn’t have been a wise decision to keep a baby while still in high school, and she knew it would have been given up for adoption. But it still hurt to think that maybe it was her fault because she didn’t even want the baby. After she told her sister what happened, they prayed all night, asking God’s forgiveness. But even then, there was something in the back of Michelle’s mind that made her think He didn’t care.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” A woman - she looked to be in her late thirties - in a hospital robe had snuck up on Michelle. She was staring at one of the babies in the front with a sort of awe in her expression.
“They really are. Is one of them yours?” Michelle asked.
The woman pointed to a child wrapped in a pink blanket who looked to be sleeping peacefully.
“Her name is Faith. My husband and I had been trying for over a decade and thought it might never happen. But we never gave up. We believed God would bring us our angel and he did. We kept the faith,” she smiled and raised an eyebrow at Michelle, as if asking if she got where they picked the name.
“Congratulations,” Michelle said quietly to the glass. She wanted to smile at the woman, but she knew it would be forced. At the mention of God, she winced on the inside. She hadn’t been too happy with the man upstairs lately and preferred that it not be brought up. In fact, she wasn’t even sure if God existed anymore. If He did, He was a complete ass.
“What about you? Do you have one here?”
“Um, no. I don’t have any kids.” The woman looked at her questioningly. “My sister is in the ICU. She was in a car accident,” Michelle told her, guessing that the woman was curious.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. What’s her name?” the woman asked.
Michelle thought that was an awkward question, but answered anyway, “Emma.”
“Ah, I love that name. It’s my favorite Jane Austen book.” Michelle figured that she had a confused expression on her face because the woman then said, “I asked because I’ll be praying for her and it’s always better to know the name to lift up to God.”
“Oh. Thanks.” Whether she believed in God or not, it was a nice gesture from this stranger.
“How did you keep your faith?” Michelle suddenly asked. She didn’t know where it came from, but she felt that she needed to know why people still believed. “After all that praying and not getting an answer, what made you still believe?”
The woman was looking into the nursery now. “How could we not? He never promised us that life would be easy, but as long as we have the faith, we would have everything that we needed. It’s His will that is done, not ours.”
This woman sounded so sure of herself. She probably never doubted that there was a God in her life. Why couldn’t Michelle feel like that anymore?
“Sure, it was hard at times, but we would always get confirmation that He was taking care of us,” she continued.
“Confirmation?”
“I said we never gave up hope, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t come close. A couple of miscarriages, failed infertility treatments, it was difficult.” A shadow had come over the woman’s face as she stared at her baby. “But every time we thought we were close to getting our wish, something in our lives would change for the worse and we were grateful not to have to bring a child into that environment. I may have been angry at God for not answering our prayers, but He knew what He was doing and He gave her to us when He was supposed to. The thing was, though we didn’t realize it at the time, He did answer our prayers.” She looked at Michelle. “It just wasn’t the answer we were looking for.” Her daughter started fussing and she looked back at her with pure joy on her face. “I’ve waited so long for her,” she said to the glass, so softly that Michelle wasn’t sure if she was meant to hear it.
Maybe this lady did know doubt after all. Maybe everyone went through this phase in their faith, but how long was it supposed to last? Michelle felt as if she’d been feeling this way her whole life. And maybe all those summers at church camp - when she would pray and cry because His presence was just so strong - were just for show, and she did it because that’s what everyone else was doing. It had to be a show, because if she was so sure that He existed and He was a part of her life, then there was no way she could ever question His existence.
“I need to get some rest. We’re taking her home tomorrow.” She smiled brilliantly at her new daughter. “I’ll be praying for Emma. Good night.” She turned to smile at her and walked away. Michelle almost stopped her to ask why she didn’t want to know her name, but changed her mind. Did she even want to be prayed for?
Michelle took one last look at the babies and headed back to her sister. But when she got there, the room was full of nurses frantically working over Emma.
“What’s happening,” she asked to everyone in the room.
“Her heart rate accelerated, but it seems to have settled down now.”
“What does that mean?”
“We’re not sure. The doctor should be here momentarily.”
The nurses left Michelle alone with her sister and gave her sad smiles on their way out. She supposed it was because tears had started falling down her face. Something terrible happened to her sister and she wasn’t here.
She rushed to the side of the bed and took Emma’s hand in hers. And the tears couldn’t be stopped. Her forehead came down to rest in the palm of her sister’s hand and she sobbed for who knows how long. She only stopped because she thought she felt movement from the Emma’s hand. She raised her head, sniffed, and stared at the hand. A finger twitched.
“Emma?” Her eyes moved to her sister’s face. And she could see her eyelids fluttering. “Em, it’s Shelly,” she told her, using the nicknames they’d used their whole lives.
“If you can hear me, squeeze my hand.” Nothing happened. “Squeeze my hand!” she said louder. Still nothing.
Michelle bent her head to Emma’s shoulder, the bandages on her head preventing her from connecting their foreheads. “Please,” she whispered, pleading. “Please, wake up for me.”
“Miss Watson?”
Michelle turned to see the doctor standing at the doorway. “She moved. I felt her hand move. She’s waking up,” she told him, not caring in the least that tears kept streaming down her face.
“Well, let’s take a look.”
He checked her pulse, put a light in her eyes and did whatever else doctors do for an exam. Michelle was mostly looking at Emma’s face for any sign of movement.
“I know she moved,” she quietly said to herself.
“She may have and that could mean she’s starting to wake up, but it seems her vitals have gone back to the way they were the last time I checked on her. We’re still just waiting. There’s nothing more I can do right now. But keep talking to her, it can’t hurt.” He patted her shoulder and walked out of the room.
“What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you awake yet?” she practically yelled at her sister and went to sit back in the chair. That was about all the voice she had left for the moment. “I’m here when you need me, Em. I’ll always be right here.”
Her phone had gone off multiple times in the last few minutes, as if he knew something was happening. “No change yet. Still hopeful,” she sent him. She wondered if she should’ve mentioned the movement, but what for? Apparently it meant nothing.
For the rest of the night, Michelle just sat there watching her sister. She didn’t want to miss anything in case she moved again. Occasionally she would reminisce about the good old days, when they were just children, to her sleeping sister. The days when their only worry was what mom made for dessert. Her tears had dried for the most part.
When she got tired of talking, her mind wandered to thoughts of the lady from the maternity ward. She wondered if her and her family were praying for Emma right now. Or, was her prayer what sparked Emma’s movement? Years ago, Michelle would have immediately jumped to that conclusion and known it was true. Today, she would like to believe that’s what happened. It was very coincidental that when, presumably, that woman went back to her room and prayed for her sister, Emma moved. But then why wouldn’t she have just woken up? Was it because Michelle didn’t have enough faith? If so, then why bother having her move at all?
She started thinking about when her crisis of faith started and wondered if she could pinpoint it. She could admit that after her miscarriage in high school, she thought about why God would put her through that. Back then, she supposed it was to learn her lesson: that sins have consequences. But she would go to church with her family on Sundays, attend youth groups every week and she would be reassured that all things happen for a reason. She was taught to just trust in the Lord.
But what’s been baffling her the most about her beliefs is the fact that she grew up with a family who wholeheartedly believed everything they were told about God and she didn’t know why she was different.
As she stared at her sister, she didn’t see the bandages covering her head, her bruised eyes, the needles in her arms, Michelle only saw this beautiful person who always put others before herself. She saw a stubborn woman who was convinced she would eventually save the world by feeding every homeless, hungry person on the street. A person who loved to sing, but made dogs howl every time she tried. A person who could never watch a movie about talking animals because she would cry when something bad happened to them. A person who loved unconditionally. A person who would never question the existence of her Maker.
More importantly, Michelle saw a woman who might never know how she really feels. Emma may have always been an understanding person, but she could never truly hide how she really felt. If Michelle told her that she was questioning her faith, Emma would say she wanted to talk about it while there was an obvious look of disappointment in her eyes. When Emma found out Michelle was pregnant in high school, she took it with such a grace that could fool anyone else who didn’t know her so well. Even after they prayed, Michelle could still see the disappointment shadow Emma’s face.
She had contemplated telling Emma for so long about how she was feeling, but she never had the courage. And now, if Emma came through, Michelle doubted she would ever be able to. She would continue on with the charade of going to church every Sunday and attending bible study on Thursday nights. Michelle knew enough of the bible to fool a lot of people. She felt bad about lying to such good people, but she figured she kept going to church in the hopes that it would spark something in her again. And if her sister made it through, perhaps she could believe it was a miracle.
“I don’t know what to do, Em. I need you to stay with me, to anchor me. If you leave, I don’t know if I’ll ever get my faith back. I don’t think I’ll ever want it back,” she whispered. She wondered if Emma could hear her. A part of her hoped she didn’t. “I may continue going to church for Mom’s sake, but that would be the only reason. And Charlie is always off doing his own thing, he wouldn’t even notice.” She grabbed Emma’s hand and stared at her fingers.
“Don’t you want me to want it?” Just as soon as she said the words, the heart monitor started beeping erratically. A nurse ran into the room and started messing with Emma’s wires.
“Now what?” Michelle asked.
“Ma’am, I need you to leave the room,” the nurse replied without looking at her.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong. Is she okay?” Michelle was frantic now. “Please, tell me!” Another nurse came up behind her, gently pushed her out of the room and closed the door on her.
“Emma,” she whispered as she stared at the door.
Michelle paced the hallway right outside Emma’s room, ignoring her phone. She couldn’t bear to tell him anything right now. More nurses ran into the room and then maybe a few doctors. And she had no idea what was happening
Finally, after what seemed like hours, though it was probably only minutes, the room started to empty.
“Well, how is she?” she asked to anyone who would listen. The doctor from before came up to her and pulled her to the side. “Well?” she asked again.
“I’m sorry. We did everything we could.” What? “She had a brain aneurysm. She was gone before the first nurse came into the room.”
“You mean…” Michelle stammered, not believing what she was hearing.
“Yes. You can go in and say your last goodbyes. Take as long as you need. I’m sorry.” With that, he walked away.
Michelle stood there. Emma was dead? But she moved. How could she be gone?
Slowly, she walked into the room. The heart monitor had been turned off, and the comforting breathing sound was gone. It was just…silent. She could feel the difference. It was colder. She was the only one in the room now. There were two bodies, but it was obvious that one of them was dead.
She stared at her sister. “You left me.” Michelle couldn’t take it. She ran as fast as she could out of the room.
She made it as far as the elevators before she broke down. Her back was against the wall when gut wrenching sobs escaped her. “No, no, no, no…” she started chanting. She didn’t know how loud she was and she didn’t care. Eventually, someone, probably a nurse, came and wrapped their arms around her. They both sat on the floor for awhile, until Michelle got tired of crying.
“Do you want to say your last goodbyes?” It was a nurse, the nicest one on that floor.
It took a second for Michelle to recognize she was talking to her before she replied, “Yes.”
They walked back into the room and the nurse left Michelle with her sister. “I know you’re gone and that you can’t hear me, but I need to say this. What the hell were you thinking? I need you.” Michelle stroked Emma’s arm. “I love you, Em. Always will.” She bent down to kiss Emma’s cheek and her heart shattered into what seemed like a million pieces.
Michelle walked out of that room wondering what she was going to tell her family. She realized that she didn’t pray once since she heard Emma was in an accident. Not even a “please, God.” Maybe that’s why she died. Frankly, Michelle didn’t much care anymore. On her way through the main lobby of the hospital, she thought she saw the lady from the maternity ward. It was obvious she was smiling. Michelle thought about running up to her and yelling to her that her stupid prayers didn’t work, but she was too exhausted. So she kept on walking.
As soon as she got into her car, her phone went off. “How is she?” the text read.
The reply: “She’s dead.”
In Michelle’s eyes, right now, God no longer meant anything to her. It was just a word, she thought as she turned the key and drove away.