My Hidden Heart

16-year-old Gianna, is in need of some help. She needs to escape. With an abusive father and step-mother, a sister that's near death, and a loving mother dying in the hospital, her life is falling apart. Until she meets Niall. He's different from other people, and madly in love with her. But he won't tell her who he is. He says it will change her life. But Gianna is in need of some change. How far will she go to find out the truth? my first fan fic/mystery story... I hope you like it! comment comment favorite favorite and like it up! :*


12. Close Call

I squint my eyes at the bright light penetrating through my eyelids. A see a legs hovering above me. But soon, the legs run away. I prop myself up onto my elbows. I see the same thing before, people crowded in an elevator. But now, there doors are being pried open by a little blond girl! She isn't quite little, she looks about my age, but how does she do that? She turns around and I see coco-colored eyes flicker with worry. Her beautiful eyes scream HELP ME! as people continue to ignore her pleads. So I hop onto my feet and walk over to her. I mouth hi in amist the noise and she smiles. I lift my elbows up and muster all the strength I can as she works on the other door. I hear "PUSH" on the other side of the metal blockade. There are people rescuing us PLUS me and this petite girl trying to pull the doors apart. Her fingers work hard, because I notice when her knuckles turn white. She puffs out of her nose as the trapped elevator door's make progress. They are open about a foot wide. The man on the other side climbs in while a tall man on the other end holds them apart, with our help. They click open and spread apart on their own. A rush of busy people comes parading out around me. I feel hands trying to push me out of the way, but I place my feet firmly on the tile I'm standing on. The strong girl with chocolate eyes looks at me before scurrying away, joining the rest of the group hurrying down the hall. I smile as she leaves me, secretly hoping that she would turn around and embrace me in a congratulations hug. But she doesn't. She keeps on walking until she disappears along with the hustle and bustle of this hospital. I wait there until they are no longer in sight. Then, I remember that I don't have the binder! OH NO! I turn around as fast as I can to see the doors just close. Room... Room... I can't remember what room number my mother was staying in. I just walk the direction the crowd went in, hoping for some clue to where she is. I stop dead in my tracks when I see a desk with working people in it. I go up to it and rest my arms on the counter confidently. "Excuse me?" I mumble. The lady with a tight bun on her head and big glasses with thick red frames, doesn't look up from her computer to notice me awaiting her service, I speak up. "EXCUSE me" I sternly say. She pops her head up and gives a big grin. That's when I notice she has a very small nose with a big mouth. She has a very unique facial structure, yet still very pretty. I curl the corners of my mouth up and try to look happy. "Uh, I have a question." I say shyly. She nods and her bun doesn't move. "Do you happen to know a long-term patient named Emma Morony?" She scrunches her thin penciled eyebrows, "I don't recall that name but I'll check it out for you." I smile and nod as she looks down to her computer and starts clicking and typing away. She reads closely, until she clicks again. She moves the mouse and tries for the answer to my question. She pushes her glasses up to the bridge of her nose and pouts. "I am so sorry, she was moved to the morgue about a week ago." My hands shake and I feel crushed. I force a smile and a genuine thank you. 'I'm sorry Ms. Masori" She apologizes. I turn around, my eyes bright with hope. I speak hard, "My name is Gianna MORONY" I spell it out for her, "M-o-r-o-n-y" She gasps. "I am SO sorry Ms. Gianna!" I nod as she continues searching for my mother. Her eyes settle on the screen and she concentrates carefully. "Ah yes, Emma S. Morony! At last." She giggles and I just smile back, anxious for an answer. She then asks before I can get a word in, "And you are the...." She looks at the screen hesitantly, "Daughter?" and takes a guess. I reply, "Yes I am! And proud of it!" I laugh. "So what room number?" She looks down and shuffles the papers on her desk. She licks her vibrant red lip stick which matches her quirky glasses. She moves the papers to an organzier and searches her desk for something. She finds a little purple box and opens it with her long red fingernails. I am guessing she likes the color red judging from her appearance. The box clicks open to reveal index cards. She pinches one with her fingers and pulls it out gracefully. She reaches up to her tightly held bun and clicks a pen. She brings it down to the card and writes numbers and words down. I notice her handwriting is soft and bubbly. She grasps the card with one hand and gives it to me. It has my mother's room number and directions to get there. "Thank you so much!" I genuinly proclaim. "Happy to help Ms. Gianna!" She says over the noise of the Woman's Cancer Center. I turn in the direcion of rooms 275-300 ane remember 276! That's her room! I jog anxiously down the hallway, passing doctors and nurses, knowing exactly where I am going. My heart leads me to the left, and I arrive at a door marked 276 in gold writing. I can almsot feel my mother's presence in my soul. She is here.

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