Posted in Feature Short Story

The Helpful Sister

Lina’s shaking hand reaches for her purse. Everything aches as she pulls her cellphone out of her purse. She swipes the cracked screen for the emergency call button and cuts her thumb in the process.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“Ple, please… help me.”
“What is your emergency?”
“I’m…hurt.”
“What is your location?”
“I’m…I’m in the parking lot…stairwell at 1900 Bridewater Street. Somebody…pushed…me down a flight of stairs.”
“Did you say you were pushed down the stairs? Is your attacker still there?”
“I don’t know.” Lina starts to weep. “Please help.”
“Help is on the way.”
“I can’t feel my legs.”
Three days later, Lina is laying in a hospital bed bruised up. Her sister, Jazmine walks in. She taken aback by Lina’s injuries.
“Oh my god, Lina, you should have called me right away.” Jazmine cups her chest. “Are you in pain?”
“No. I’m on enough drugs. I didn’t call because I was ashamed of our argument, and I didn’t feel right reaching out for help. Can you forgive me?”
“Of course. I’m happy to help.”
“I know you didn’t want to move in to be my nurse.”
“Well, this way, we can help each other out. I only needed to stay three months.”
“I should be good after one month, but you can stay for three.”
“Did the police find out who pushed you down the stairs?”
“No. The person hid their face the whole time.”
“Wow. I know cops hate hoodies.”
“Who said anything about a hoodie?”

 

The End