thirteen

13.

Am I alive?

Where’s mom?
Scratches? Blood? Where am I?

13.

My head is foggy.

I remember screaming. 

I fell. I’m cold. There she is. 

13.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Are you okay?”

“Someone call an ambulance.”

13. 

Is she going to live?

What happened?

This can’t be happening. 

13. 

Keep breathing.

The ambulance is here.

Let’s move her.

13. 

Need to call dad.

Need to stay strong. 

Need to cry.

13. 

CT. X-Ray.

I’m okay.

She’s okay. 

13 years old. 

Almost lost mom.

What’s to come from this?

“You’re so brave.” 

13 years old.

Growing up.

13.