Healing on the Worst Day -

Lately I have been working on what I hope will one day be a book. Since I've got nothin good to report, I figured I would post this for your pleasure and feedback. Enjoy!
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I had found him the car and helped him finance it. My mother and I had helped clean it up and destroyed the smell of cigarettes from the upholstery, my father had taken him to teach him how to drive a stick shift. Now that little red car was sitting in our drive way full of his belongings and he stormed past me multiple times, cramming even more of his stuff in it. Watching, I felt numb, unsure of what to do, how to react. There was no manual for this part, no instructions, no in case of emergency back up plan. There was only me watching what was supposed to be the rest of my life walk away.


As he slammed the trunk shut he snarled at me, apparently disgusted at the mere sight of me. I looked to the ground and had only one thought enter my head. ‘Give him one last hug, you know you are the better person, do it so that you have no regrets later in life.’ I followed my gut and approached him, giving him one, quick last hug. He stepped into the car and quickly took off, barely missing one of the neighbors kids on their tricycle as he sped down the road.

I don't know how long I stood there before I realized that my brother had appeared next to me and had put a hand on my back. I kept standing there, not sure what to do, not sure how to feel. I waited for the rush of emotions that I knew were coming, but they never did. The cold October wind sent a gust through our little neighborhood and I sighed, feeling goose bumps cover my body.


“Dani, you need to come inside,” My brother said, grabbing at my arm. “It is freezing out here.” I looked to him and tried not to cry as I studied his face. Nodding I started inside and headed back downstairs to what once was my basement apartment.

Sitting cautiously on the stairs I looked at the mess that was once my life. Clothes were scattered from the bedroom to the living room, movies and CD’s had been thrown across the room. Blankets that were folded an hour before now covered even more damage and more misplaced items that had been strewn around during his rage. All I could do was stare as the numb feeling blanketed me, protecting me from my own emotions.


After thirty minutes I stood and picked up the first item, it was my stethoscope. I hugged it to my chest as I walked over all the other items and then found my way to my bed. I dug into a pile that was once my neat closet and found an old pair of scrubs and put them on. Once warm enough and emotionally strong enough I turned on my radio and began to pick up the pieces of my now broken life.

As the afternoon progressed my parents came home from work. My brother having told them what had happened they sat on the stairs, watching me. We didn’t speak. I could smell dinner cooking on the stove, but I had no interest in it. My dad put on one of my favorite movies and turned the volume up loud, hoping to entice me to watch it with them. Instead I began to rearrange the furniture in my bedroom, pushing the dresser around.


The sound of a siren that was my ring tone cried out and I uneasily grabbed my phone and answered it. “Hello?” I asked, feeling quite apprehensive.

“Is this Dani?” I heard a friendly voice say from the other end.

“This is.” I replied.

“Hi Dani, my name is a Manager from the Hospital.”

“Hi…” I said, feeling my voice start to shake as I began my dig for a pen.

“I interviewed with you last week.” She said, wasting no time. “And I understand you cannot work the job I interviewed you for, but would you come in again tomorrow for a interview as a CNA?” She asked. “The job just literally opened up and I think you would be great at it!”

I stopped. “Of course!” I said, trying to sound as excited as I felt. I was ecstatic, thrilled, in shock. The conversation flowed well, I got the address and information I needed and we hung up the phone. I laid on my bed and sighed, looking up to the ceiling.


When I finally had the strength to sit up I jumped as my little brother walked into the room and flopped down on the bed next to me, a risky move on his part. At any moment I could burst into flame, animal form or even simply acting as a bitch, yet he looked danger in the eye and entered anyways, a move I was glad he made. “Who was that?” He asked.

“A gal from the Hospital .” I said, smiling a little bit. He smiled and put up a hand, I high-fived him. “I have a job interview tomorrow.” I said.

“Cool!” He said sitting up. I then sighed and nodded. “What?”


“I can’t move my dresser.” I said sheepishly. He stood and threw a shoulder into it and it began to slide easily across the carpet. I admired my little brother because he helped me, not only with the dresser, but the bed and with putting the clothing in high places.

At seventeen my brother stood almost five inches taller than me, the 5’1 nineteen year old. He had the same sandy blond hair and I did and same blue eyes, but had taken after our dad when it came to his nose and jaw line. He smiled at me as I finished putting the fresh sheets on my bed. Without saying a word, and without complaining about my taste in music he helped me put everything away and got my room re-organized. When it was done I smiled, taking in a small breath of the fresh smell.

“Thank you.” I said, throwing my arms around him.


“Your welcome,” He whispered, embracing me, “Now will you please come eat dinner already so mom can quit griping about it?” I chuckled and nodded, then sat down and forced myself to eat something.

It was 10:30 by the time I got done eating, and my parents had already gone to bed, both not wanting to take on the beast quite yet. I grabbed a blanket and turned on Discovery Health, and without saying a word my night was spent watching reruns of ‘Trauma; Life in the ER’ with my little brother.

As we watched he did imitations of famous actors and how they would react if they were doctors in the show. Before too long I was holding back tears and laughing to an impersonation of Sean Connery dealing with a car accident

I always knew family was important, I had always loved my family, but it wasn't until that moment that I realized that my family 'gets' me better than I think they do. They understand how I tick enough to understand how to let me heal, and that, is honorable.