Chapter 1
Romans 8:28- “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”
My Dad and I were in the car driving back home from my friend’s house. I was on my phone scrolling on TikTok looking at skin care routines that I can try when I got home. Dad tried to take a peek on my phone, and I started to turn away from him.
“What are you looking at?” asked Dad.
“None of your business, dad, it’s just girl stuff,” I said.
“I can’t believe I thought after living with your mother I would understand females.”
I don’t know what to respond to that, so I refuse to answer back. Besides, he doesn’t understand what it’s like to try to look like these girls.
“Maybe one day you will Dad.”
“Can you put up your phone, I’m tired of you staring at it looking upset.”
I did my best not to roll my eyes and turned off my phone. I started to look out the window, and realized that it was raining bad.
“You don’t think it will cause too much traffic do you?”
“I hope not,” sighed Dad. “Talia, can you put your seatbelt on? I already don’t have my airbags on!”
I began to strap on my seatbelt, but something else caught my eyes. A gasoline truck was merging onto our road, he was going a little too fast. All of the sudden, the truck slipped on the wet road and tipped over. Before Dad could have a chance to stop, we crashed into right into the fallen truck. I must have blacked out, because not to long after, I could hear sirens. Everything hurt, it was extremely hot, I was struggling to breathe, move, or see anything. My face was pressed against what I believe was the dashboard.
“There two survivors in the car!” said a voice coming up the the car.
“How did the car not explode yet?” asked another voice.
“Asked that question on your own time, come on, we need to get them out of here before that tank explodes.”
I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t feel my mouth. I could hear what I believe were power tools grinding on the door. I started to pray in my head, for my dad to survive, for the truck driver, and that God would forgive him for not being safe on road and that he would survive, and that if I was to die, it wouldn’t hurt. That has been one of my fears for a long time ever since my grandpa was shot and killed for preaching the gospel by a drug dealer. He was upset for bringing his best client to Christ. Ever since then, dying in a slow agonizing death has been one of the things I’ve been praying to avoid, but mom said God didn’t promise that we would have a peaceful quiet life, but I might not have to worry about it to much since we live in the U.S. I heard a loud clambering sound, and the outside noises was louder. There were flames, and sirens, and what I believe to be pedestrians nearby.
“Umm… sir we have a problem!” Said the second voice I heard.
“Oh no… that’s not good…” said the first voice. “OK, you two handle the man, I’ll get the girl.”
“Be careful with her face,” said a third voice.
I was carefully picked up, and was placed on a gurney, due to the pain, I couldn’t help but to flinch up.
“Doc, I think she’s conscious!” said the first voice.
“Hello? If you can hear me, I want you to not worry, we got you and we’re going to take care of you!” said another voice.
I could feel the gurney move into a ambulance and could feel doctors poking me with stuff.
“She has some third degree burns on arms and legs,” said a doctor.
“And her face…”
I tried to hear that last part, but I blacked out again. When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed, my mom was sitting on a couch next to my bed, she looked tired. Everything felt wrong; my body didn’t like my own. I tried to move my arm, but it felt heavy. Mom looked up at me, then jumped. She got up from the couch and rushed to my side.
“Hey honey, how do you feel?” asked Mom.
“Terrible,” I answered.
I tried to give a smile, but for some reason, I couldn’t.
“I’ll be back,I’m going to go get the doctors.”
“We’re going to tell the doctor that you’re awake.”
Mom left the room, leaving me by myself. Now I was beginning to worry. Without Mom giving me a straight answer, I don’t know what to make of what happened to me. What made this even worse was how I couldn’t even think straight. All I could think was how bad could it possibly be. I prayed in my head, “Don’t let it be as bad as Mom making it seem.”
Finally, Mom came back with a doctor.
“Hi Talia, how are you feeling?” asked the doctor.
“Like something wrong,” I muttered.
The doctor nodded. “Don’t worry, we’re going to do all we can to make you feel better. You were in a accident, but you’re in good hands.”
I lookeover at Mom, it was hard to read her face.
“What’s …wrong?” I stumbled.
“Well, you do have some injuries on your arms and legs, but what we’re more concerned about is your face,” the doctor said carefully. “But for now, we want you to rest, we’ll give you more information later.”
“Where’s Dad?” I asked.
“He’s going to be okay,” Mom reassured.
“You don’t need to worry about him, you just need to focus on your recovery.”
I would have nodded but my head felt heavy.
“If you need anything, just tell your mom, she’ll push that red button by your bed okay?”
The doctor then left, leaving me with Mom by side.
“Where’s Mason?” I asked softly, feeling ready to go back to sleep.
“He’s at your grandma’s house,” said mom. “You’re only allowed for one visitor.”
“Probably for the best…” I muttered. “All of this probably would have scared him.”
“Honey, if you’re tired, you can get some rest,” said Mom. “I need to check on your dad anyway.”
Mom patted my hand before leaving. I kind of wished she didn’t leave me, myself and my foggy thoughts. I couldn’t help but to feel scared. Why did this have to happen? Why won’t the doctor give me more details? I closed my eyes, and finally drifted off.
