I entered the kitchen to get a drink. Gulping down the glass of water feeling nauseated, I heard a gasp followed by sounds of tumbling. My heart thumped in my chest at the thought of what the sound might’ve been.
I placed the empty glass in the sink and ran out into the hall way. My heart carried on thumping, louder and louder, drowning out the surrounding sounds and her and my sobs.
She rolled onto my feet and the blood slowly spilled out of her wound. I fell to my knees reaching my arms out and holding her. I was careful not to move her much in case of any broken bones. My hand moved and held the back of her neck keeping her upright. The warm blood flowed from the open cut on her head onto my hand. The tears rolled down my face as they rolled down hers.
Her thick, curly black hair hung at her neck covering my hand and tangling my fingers. Her eyes closed gradually and I spoke, almost shouted at her to keep her awake.
“Mum?” I said over and over.
