When They Found Out
Barbara Knight
By Elena Ridgeway
spunkie_2003@yahoo.com

Lucy was a good child. A smart one too. She always did what someone asked of her. Always.

When I got the call that my baby girl had been stabbed and I needed to come right away, I was hysterical. I ran out of the house without anything and tried to get to the airport. I was halfway to Chicago when I realized I hadn't brought anything with me. It didn't matter: I could always buy something there. The plane landed and I continued to run all over the place. I don't remember much of it. When something happens to one of your kids, you kind of go into a trance. I ended up at the hospital, somehow. Dr.Weaver took me into a room and gave me a pill, and told me that Lucy had died of complications. I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed uncontrolably. She led me to a room so I could get some sleep.

When I woke up all I could remember was that Lucy was dead. I needed to talk to somebody, someone who knew her and cared about her. Dr. Carter could help me, I thought. Lucy always talked about him when she called, and he sounded like such a nice young man. I asked where I could find him. Dr.Weaver gently told me that he had also been involved in the attack, and only family members were allowed to visit him at the moment. I guess I looked shocked or something, because she handed me another pill and told me she would get someone to take me home. I said I'd just go to Lucy's.

Reality set in then as I realized that she'd never be there again.