The Worst Day of my Life (ch1)

  Some people in this world we live in, tend to say the phrase, "This is the worst day ever!" Be it something small, or something that disrupts their day to throw it into a small amount of chaos, someone at some point has uttered those words. However, what I am about to tell you is something that really happened to me. This was truly, the worst day of my entire twenty two years of life. I remember every moment of that day. Every second, and the days to follow, are forever burned into my brain. And the beginning of that day of torment, began with a simple phone call.

  It was about two in the morning on March 3 2014, and I had been asleep for a mere four hours after ending a Skype call with my boyfriend; having just gone back to Ohio two days prior. My phone was laying next to my bed on the charger, when an annoying ringtone resonated in my ears. Barely conscious from a blurry dream, I thought it was my alarm, until I saw my grandmothers phone number flashing on the screen. 'Good god, does she need me to come over and get something off a shelf for her again?' My grumpy, sleep deprived mind grumbled. Though a majority of my mind thought her call was a dream. It would not be the first time I dreamed someone called me, when in reality I accidentally called them in my sleep. Still though, I answered the call and said, "Grandmother? What are you still doing up? Its two in the mor-"

  My grandmothers voice, sounding semi-strained, interrupted, "Sarah, I need you to get up. Listen, your parents house caught on fire, and Jesse is dead."

  My mind instinctively said, 'Nah, there's no way, I MUST be dreaming.' Her words seemed to mold together in blob as I sleepily said, "Wha? What are you-"

  "Jesse is dead."

  That single statement. Those three words seemed to kick my adrenaline into overdrive. All previous need of sleep managed to instantly vaporize. This wasn't a dream, i'm really on the phone hearing this! "WHAT?!" I shrieked into the darkness of my room. Grandmother said, "Jean is coming right now, and we are going to Stephenville when your parents get to the hospital. Do you need her to come get you?"

  My mind was kicked in from it's groggy state, and as I swiftly slipped on my jeans, I said into the phone, "No, i'm coming right now. Don't you DARE leave without me!" With that, I ended the call and tried to find a pair of shoes. Vaguely, I recalled the weather saying it was going to be -4F outside, but I was in such a frantic hurry, I grabbed my sandals and my Deadmau5 hoodie before running out the door with my purse.

  I ran down the stairs of my landlord Pat's house, across the living room, then out into the freezing night towards my car. As I drove down the street, I speed dialed my boyfriend Jake. I needed to hear him. He had to know what happened. By some miracle, Jake answered the phone. His groggy voice sounded, "Babe? You okay?"

  The voice that came from me seemed almost like it was screaming my words. I was on the edge of hysteria as I cried out, "Jake! Oh god something happened at mom and dad's! Their house! I-It caught on fire!!"

  He seemed to instantly wake up as he said, "What?! Is everyone alright?! What happened?!"

  I was sobbing in hysterics, and seemed to barely understand my own words. I said, "Mom and dad are going to the hospital, but I don't know about Jesse!" I refused to believe he was dead. My grandmother was known for causing drama in the past, so I assumed she jumped to a conclusion. I refused to believe until I heard it from the Marshall.

  In the darkness of the early morning, I remember the lights of the night just becoming a blur on the road as I cried on the phone. Poor Jake was probably in a panic thanks to me. I sounded as if I had witnessed the fire myself. He tried to calm me down so I could focus on the drive to my grandmothers, but I was screaming and crying too much. Finally, after what seemed to be a longer than usual five minute drive, I hung up and hurried inside Grandmother's house.

  The little old woman in question was standing in her nightgown, and was about to go to her room to get dressed when I walked in. I looked at her and whimpered softly, "Have you heard anything about mom and dad?"

  Grandmother simply shook her head as she said, "No, but they are on their way to the hospital in Stephenville." In a way, I was relieved to know they were on the road to the hospital. That was good, because they were still alive. As soon as that little glimmer of hope shined in my mind, my heart squeezed painfully. As if I was choking on my words, I said softly, "And... Jess?" She simply shook her head and said, "No, sweetheart... Jesse didn't make it out."

  My heart couldn't take those words. The next sound that came out of my mouth sounded almost as if it was from a horror movie; I was screaming. I screamed over and over again, collapsing to the floor holding both sides of my head. No. No no no no! This was not happening! I had just seen Jesse the other day! We were playing on my old Sega together on Streets of Rage 2! My grandmother scrambled to try and calm me down, but I could not stop my wails and screams. Quickly, she said, "Sarah! Calm down!" My head snapped up and I screamed, "JESSE IS NOT DEAD!! HE CAN'T BE DEAD!!! I WON'T BELIEVE IT!!" I screamed, thrashing my head around as sobs filled the room.

  It took a few minutes before I was curled up against grandmother's side, crying like a baby as I held her close. By this time, she was dressed and holding me tight against her while my friend Jean sat in the living room. She was grandmother's day help, so she was going to drive us to Stephenville. By three in the morning, we were on our way to Stephenville. I refused to eat anything, and I just stared out the window at the winter night sky. Snow flakes were flying past my window as I huddled under a blanket in the back of grandmother's van. Normally on the hour and a half trip to Stephenville, I daydream about situations of romance or even what I want to do in the future. However, all that was in my mind was nothing. I was curled up in my own little crafted shell, as I locked away my heart for what was coming up. I had to be strong for everyone else; especially my younger sister TJ. She was probably still asleep at her University, blissfully unaware of the hell that was unfolding several hours away. I envied her.

   About twenty minutes away from Stephenville, I got a call from an unknown number. I was prepared to hear a doctor or someone from the fire on the other line. As I held the phone to my ear though, my heart shattered as I heard my dad's regular tired voice sound, "Hey, baby... where are you?" He sounded awful; probably from smoke inhalation. I whimpered lightly as I said, "Daddy... Thank God, I can hear you now. W-We are a few minutes away from the hospital."

  He coughed lightly, and he said, "Good... hurry here. I need to see something familiar to me."

  It took all of my power to not cry on the phone with him, but eventually I hung up as we neared our destination. Before Jean could park, I jumped out of the van and ran inside the ER entrance to the front desk. Freezing from the cold weather, I told the woman the names of my parents, and she informed me I needed to have a seat. My step-grandmother Hilda was already there with her husband Chuck, and she looked to me with heart broken eyes. We didn't say anything. All we could do was hold each other as we cried.

  It was not long until a nurse gently tapped on my shoulder and asked for me to follow her into the ER. My heart was racing in my chest, and the yellowed walls around me seemed to blur together through my tears that failed to be held back. When I entered the room, I saw bustling nurses running to and away from something in the center of the room. Instantly, I recognized the man on the stretcher... my father. He had exposed burns that were covered in black markings, and an IV hooked up to his right arm. The nurse grabbed for me, but I ran to his side and took his free hand in my own. His hand was freezing, while seeming to have the texture of sandpaper. He weakly opened his eyes to look at me, and I choked out, "Daddy..."

  He furrowed his brow and closed his eyes as he said softly, "Hey baby. I feel like shit." I couldn't help but smile lightly, but the reality of the situation didn't go away. He said, "I need you to do me a favor." He held up his other hand, and gave me a torn piece of paper with a number on it. His blue eyes strained to look up at me as he said, "Hold onto that for me.. I will tell you what that number is for, later." Before I could ask him anymore, I looked up to see someone pulled in on a stretcher next to him. His hand gently took their limp hand, and that was when my heart sank. It was mom! Her normally pretty bleach blond hair, was now scorched and blackened by the smoke from the house. She had small burns on her face, but her right arm was exposed. I wanted to run and hide from what I saw.

  Her arm had been burned very badly, and they had put a tube down her throat to intubate her for the travel to a Dallas Hospital. At least, that's what the nurse next to me muttered. Dad held her fingers that didnt manage to get burned, and studied her face as the nurse began to lead me out. I just sat in the waiting room, staring at my red freezing toes in silence. Hilda was talking to Grandmother about what they knew, and that was when she said, "Oh my God, Emily... I just don't know how I am going to live without Jesse! He was my whole world...!"

  That now familiar stabbing pain in my chest returned, and I bit my bottom lip to keep myself from crying again. I pulled my hood over my head as if to hide from everything, my hands trembling as I whimpered softly to myself. Jesse. That was all I could think of was him. His red hair, and his funny faces he made to express himself as much as he could. His love for video games, space, and overall anything to do with life. And now he was gone.

  No. I would not let myself cry again. Not until I was able to really be alone. A few moments later, a nurse came to get me, saying dad wanted to see me. Rushing with her into the ER, she first took me to my mom, to say goodbye to her before she would head out on the long drive to Dallas. The wind storm was blowing snow everywhere, so to be safe they decided against taking a helicopter. I looked at her sleeping face, and said softly, "I love you, mom. See you in Dallas." Turning away, I fought back more tears as I entered dad's temporary room to see him laying on his stretcher. He looked at me when I stood by his bed, and he said, "Pull up a chair. I want you here for a while."

  As if I needed anything more to convince me. Pulling a chair from the corner of the room, I sat at his bedside and held his hand in mine. He had waves of pain go through his battered body, but the morphine was keeping him semi-comfortable. We sat in silence, just being with each other until he spoke up, "Your mom jumped on me from the second floor... Doctor said I am lucky she didnt break my back." He had a history of slipped discs in his spine, so hearing this didn't exactly bring me comfort. I was too scared to ask him what happened, so I said softly, "I'm so thankful you and mom made it out. If anything happened to you two..."

  He looked at me and he said, "Stop crying. I'm not dead yet, and I don't plan to as long as she is still alive." I had not noticed tears were falling from my face, and I swallowed lightly to try and calm myself down. Hesitantly, I asked, "Are you okay, daddy? Can I get you anything?" He closed his eyes and said, "No, sweetie. I'm so damn tired... my heart's broke. I don't know what to do." I could see he was blaming himself for what happened. Even though we had no idea what caused the fire, he was already shouldering the blame. Gently leaning down and pressing my forehead to his hand, I said, "I'm going to make sure they take care of you. Of both of you." He nodded lightly as he said, "I need you to do me a favor. Still have that number I gave you?"


  He closed his eyes, as if to try and remember before saying, "I don't think he has her. When the front of the house exploded, I went to the laundry room where she was. I had fallen on the floor and almost blacked out before I managed to get the door open. I felt something get on my back and leap off... i'm positive that was her jumping over my back." So it was uncertain if she made it? That didn't help lower my panic level.

  Even as he told me this, a very small angry part of my brain protested, 'So the dogs made it, but not my little brother?! What the hell happened in there?!' I quickly snuffed it out though, knowing I needed to know the whole story first.

  I gave him a reassuring nod as I said, "I will call him when you are on your way to Dallas. I will make sure the dogs are taken care of, dad." He looked at me with pain in his eyes as he said, "Make sure Bitsy is safe. Your Momma is going to need that little dog when she wakes up." I nodded, and sat with him in silence just holding his hand. There was nothing else to say. What COULD we say? Our lives were just torn apart by this freak accident, and we would never be the same again. Before long though, I was told it was time for him to be taken on a stretcher to be loaded up for Dallas. I stood in the hall leading to the exit where Dad was going to go, waiting impatiently for him to emerge. I didn't even pay attention to the Hospital Director next to me with the Fire Chaplin. My mind was only on my dad.

Pretty soon, dad was brought out, and I reached out to him. Taking his hand, I said, "I love you, Daddy. We'll see you in Dallas... please be safe." He nodded as he said, "Be careful. Love you too." With that, the crew told me they would take care of him as they loaded him in the back of the vehicle. I stood there and watched them drive away, then I hurried to the waiting room to walk out to Grandmother's van. At close to six forty in the morning, we were on the road to Dallas, leaving me to day dream only about my last few hours in that home.