It's Not Too Late

by Sharon De Mello, age 17, from the US

I hung up the phone and ran for the door. I didn’t have time to think about putting on socks or grabbing a coat. I bolted to my red Nissan and prayed it would get me to my destination before it was too late.

I didn’t care about what speed I was going, only that time was against me. My mind was turning upside-down.

"How could this have happened to me...again? Please let everything be O.K. Please let my mother be all right."

Remnants of the phone call came playing back in my mind.

"Is this Rosa DeMello?"

"How can I help you doctor?"

"I’m so sorry to be the bearer of bad new at this hour, but..."

"But what?"

"Your mother was admitted to the hospital forty-five minutes ago. She suffered a severe heart attack. We’ve managed to get her heartbeat steady again, but it’s not looking well. I don’t think she’ll make it through the night."

I felt my head spinning in a thousand directions, my stomach was turning, and I wanted to vomit. Darkness fell over my eyes even thought the lights were on. I couldn’t think or speak of anything. All I could feel was my heart pounding through my chest and the immense pain piercing my body.

"Hello! Hello!! Are you still there Rosa?"

My thoughts regained their organization as I remembered the doctor was still on the line.

"Yes, doctor. I’m still here," I said somberly. "How is she now?"

Not very well. She’s unconscious and extremely weak. If there were ever a time to say your last goodbye-it’s now. I can’t stress enough how critical it is for you to get down here immediately."

"Where is she?"