Hurting at the Hospital

After that,I quickly said good bye and hung up.I called my aunt and asked her to pick up Meggie,Ron, and John, and for her to drive me to the hospital. When I got there, I frantically approached the nurse at the front desk. “Name please,” she said. “I’m Seth Brezelli,” I said in a hurry. “My mom visiting her boyfriend, who’s here. She told me to come here as fast as I could,” I explained, my words tumbling over each other. The nurse nodded. “What’s his name?” she asked.
“Brett Fenton,” I answered. “And my mom’s name is Elaine Margaret Brezelli,” I told her. She looked it up on her computer. “Floor 2, second hallway on the left. They should be in Room 17,” the nurse said. “Thank you,” I replied, in a hurry. Suddenly, I pictured Brett in a hospital bed, all bruised up,with heart monitors and the whole nine yards.Was it really that bad?Even if it was,I knew Brett would hurt me for this sooner or later.I felt a wave of grief, guilt, pain, and fear wash over me.Something told me mom was hurting more than he was.

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