My nap wasn’t intended to be so long. Although I knew it wasn’t. After having some sweet yawns for a while, I shouted ‘Teresa! Teresa! Where are you?’ No answer.
‘Teresa! What are you doing in the kitchen?’
Still no answer.
I could hear the water constantly being flown from the tap as if Teresa was washing the dishes. I stood up from my bed and went to look at what Teresa was doing.
To my horror, the tap was on and Teresa was lying unconscious on the kitchen floor. The feeling of trepidation filled my heart.
With the phone nearby, I dialed 911 with shivering fingers and the call taker spoke, as usual ‘911- What’s your emergency?’
I explained ‘Hello, please bring an ambulance fast. There’s an unconscious person at my home’
After telling them my address, I felt miserably terrified. Teresa was bleeding and there was a pure gun shot at her arm. I was continuously thinking how anyone could just get into my house like that! Furthermore, I didn’t even hear a noise! From now on, I felt I wasn’t safe for much longer.
The ambulance took 10 minutes to reach and when it did, Teresa wouldn’t open a single eye. Thoughts and questions had sheathed my mind. Two cops were standing there too. They asked me a lot of questions and I elucidated every single moment. Although I hadn’t seen anybody doing it, the police weren't sure about the case. And I was scared, so I couldn’t move a muscle except that, my tears were perpetually rolling down my cheek. When the hospital arrived, Teresa was taken inside the Emergency Room. I was waiting there and didn’t know how I could handle all of this alone. Then, I called mom to tell her what had happened.
‘Cloe! I’m begging you to come here please. You are not safe there.’ said Mom.
I thought about it for a second and finally mom was right.
The doctor came out from the room and said ‘The patient has been shot with 2 bullets, one in the arm and the other at the back. She will recover systematically.’
I said ‘Okay, thank you Doctor.’
I took a breath of relief. I didn’t know any one from Teresa’s family whom I could tell of Teresa’s condition. But then I remembered that she had an uncle whom she visited a year ago. She might have his number in her phone.
I had Teresa’s phone in my hands, which was covered in blood. I wiped her phone with a tissue and opened her Contacts List. I finally found the number of her Uncle Peter.
I called him instantly and a lady spoke ‘Hello.’
I answered ‘Hi, Can I please talk to Mr. Peter?’
The lady said ‘Yes, I’ll hand him the phone’
I waited for Mr. Peter to take the phone and when he did, he said ‘Yes, who’s this talking?’
I replied ‘Hi, I’m Cloe Langston.. Teresa works at my house. Recently, someone shot her anonymously and she is in the hospital. I’m with her at the hospital right now. If it’s possible for you to come, then please do.’
Mr. Peter spoke ‘Is Teresa fine? I’m leaving right now. Please text me the address. I will be coming within an hour’
I texted him the address and sat there quietly. I was constantly thinking about the occurrence.
The blood-spattered body of a 25 year old girl, was giving me a feeling of horror and suspense.