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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Entertainment · #1721799
Will missing school be okay?
Broken Tears #3

I did not realize that what I needed most was the time honored natural prescription of sleep. What brought me back to reality was Grace putting her paw on my bed gently, to get my attention. My eyes opened slowly. The room was cool and peacefully quiet. Too quiet. In fact there were no sounds of car doors slamming, bus horns honking or the 10 year old alarm clock going off. I tried to rub more of the sleep out my eyes and realized that there was a cast on my right hand. My next thought was not of breakfast but of panic, because I felt that tardy was not the word for what the records in school would show. I would be absent if it was past 10:30. I turned over to look at the clock that I had depended on since the third grade. The time was 10:30 exactly.

“Oh no Grace. I’m in such big trouble that there will be many people mad at me for sure.” Grace laid down on my rug and looked up with those beautiful brown eyes. I tried to sit up and suddenly realized that the pain in my hand was back and I began to wince. I got up and went into the bathroom. Next I directed my attention to the kitchen where I hoped that there would be enough orange juice and a quick to eat breakfast bar. Grace quietly followed me into the kitchen where she sat down beside an empty food bowl.

“I guess mother.” I started to say as I remembered that she had to go in early and probably assumed that I would be awake soon after that to feed Grace before I went to school. “Sorry about that. I owe you a treat when I can get some from the pet store.” I got the bag of food that we were given when Grace came to our home. Grace gobbled down the scoops of dry food as soon as I put the bowl down.

Then as if on cue, the telephone rang. I walked to the counter and picked it up to find out who my caller was.

“Hello?”

“Caroline! Are you all right? The school called me and said that you had not shown up. I told them of your accident and that you had intended to come. Maybe you should stay at home to rest. How do you feel?” sounded Mother in a stressed and hurried voice.

“Well if you really want to know, I did intend to go but I overslept. I think that I must have turned off the clock and rolled over this morning. And now my arm is hurting again. Where’s the medication?”

“Oh it is in the medicine cabinet. Read the label. I am sure that it says to take only one every twelve hours.” It sounded like Mother put her hand over the mouthpiece. “Look Caroline, I’ll call the school back and tell them that you just don’t feel well. You can get some rest. I’ll see you later. Love you! I have got to go.” There was another pause and a muffled voice. “Yes, Mr. Blocker. I am going to get those things you needed now.” The phone clicked off and I hung up my receiver. I began to wonder what Mr. Blocker was asking Mother to do now. He seemed to be putting new pressure on her and some other employees every day. I saw her coming home tired and some times red eyed. My mother, who would not hurt anyone, was brought to tears by the worse jerk in the world. She would leave it, but then felt a job in the hand was worth 10 jobs out there with a lot of competition.

I hurriedly took Grace to the back yard and told her that I owed her a better walk later. I said a brief good morning to Mrs. Shelton our neighbor. She looked about 7 months pregnant and waved back to me as she walked her two mini-pinchers back into her house. Grace immediately saw a squirrel to chase and ran to the back fence where the squirrel did an Olympic style jump up into a tree and on to a higher branch. Grace sniffed a couple of times and returned to where I waited for her to come back inside.

I went to the table where I put my purse. I remembered that my cell phone had needed to be charged. It was my only link to my high school friends and Schuller. This was the last thing I bought with my extra money that Dad had given me before he lost his job. I was hoping that we would have enough money to pay the fee or I would be without communication. The screen lit up and then said “Good bye,” with that sick jingle that meant no phone calls for a while. I had to recharge it for at least 4 or 5 hours. I guessed that my friends would be thinking that I was very sick or even dead if they could not reach me. Only one person knew my home phone and Clara would not be calling me.

I took my medicine with a big glass of water and then thought that this was the best time to catch up on the reading that I had to do for class. I had one monster book assignment for my history class that would make a big difference on a grade. There was only one problem. Four and a half pages into the chapter one on the Roman Empire and all those toga clad men, my medicine began to make me drowsy again. As the book slipped from my hands, my eyes began to lose focus. I had been knocked out again. I enjoyed the painless sleep that came with that nice little pill. But as I slept, I could not notice that our gas stove, in our 40 year old house, had a tiny gas leak. Soon, carbon monoxide filled the kitchen and would progress slowly to other parts of the house. Would my deep sleep would soon be permanent if I did not wake up?
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