4. the aftermath
The police showed up at the house within ten minutes. The flashing blue lights shining in through the windows and reflecting throughout the house. An ambulance speeds round the corner as it desperately tries to locate us. The police run up the stairs and take my mother away from me. She struggles, kicking and screaming, “My baby, my baby, somebody save my baby” she screamed, the words being disguised by her loud sobs and screams. The man is just standing there, clutching his phone in his hand, staring at me with horror on his face. My mother glances at him and whispers “go” under her breath as she tries to hold back the tears. Then without a word, he ran out. The flashing blue lights are still filling the entire house, alerting every room of my death. The sounds of the sirens are bringing attention from the neighbours as they emerge from their own homes to see what is going on. My body is covered in a black bag as I am listed onto a stretcher. I am rolled out of my house with my mother crying next to some policemen who are looking disturbed by all of it. My next door neighbour who I have been very close to over the years, because of my mums constant leaving me so I have had to confide in her with stuff, has a similar reaction to mum. Her cries are quieter though and she is trying to hide it. I now realise that I could have just gone to her with my problems. I could have avoided all of this. I let my feelings get the better of me and now I have affected two people. Two more people I thought would have cared about it. Well there is no turning around now.