Finally only a week before break and it’s a Thursday night. I have DHO and as I sit in the cold hard hallway chair I hear a door bust open to see my brother rushing towards me. As I start to stand up I see him stop in front of the stairs with panic swelling his eyes as he suddenly starts to violently shake. Before I can reach him I see him fall down to slam his head on the rough iron stairs. As blood starts to flow from his head to make a small pool on the floor I start to scream, “Help! Help! Help! ” Still no one came; I kneel down watching my brothers face go from bright tan to a pale shade of grey as he coughs up blood and continues to shake. As I sit there panicking, too confused to respond, a teacher, along with 5 seniors from my unit, rush from the counselor’s office towards me.
After the teacher made a panicked call to 911 it took only a couple minutes before I heard the fierce ringing of the siren rapidly approaching the building. As soon as my parents received a call from the campus security they were in the car speeding toward Culver from Ontario in hopes that my brother was still alive. After the ambulance left the campus I found myself sitting in my counselor’s car shaking and panicking, as he drove following the ambulance’s siren. When we reached the hospital I rooted myself in the chair reluctant about leaving the car; afraid I might find that my brother died with out me being there. My counselor did not pressure me to go inside but instead gave me time to decide what to do from here.
When we finally entered the hospital we had to wait over an hour to finally see him, but as I stepped in the room I finally felt overwhelmed with relief as I saw him awake. As he laid there confused and shivering my counselor and I had the privilege to see the final staples be placed to close the wound. I’ve never would have guessed my summer vacation would start like this.