Richard sat in a waiting room that had an uneasy combination of smells including hand sanitizer, dead plant and his own sweat. The TV in the room just noticeably abuzz with sound. Some Spanish soap opera as entertainment for the only other person in the room, the receptionist at the counter. She giggled quietly as she scroll on her computer, ignoring Richard's pained expression and anxious demeanor. He rocked slightly with a crucifix in between his hands. He had no other choice.
It was four in the morning when Richard got the call. He called a taxi and rushed as quickly as he could to the hospital, the only car he owned was currently in a ditch somewhere off the freeway. He ran frantically to the receptionist and a doctor quickly entered the scene and explained the situation. Richard was far too shaken to register any full sentences but words would creep through. Words like "critical condition" and "wife". Words like "daughter" and "driving" and "heroin".
Janice was more than happy walking home from her nursing shift but Richard was very protective of her. Every morning he woke up next to a tangled mess of gorgeous raven-black hair. The mess of hair would grumble and pout adorably as Richard prepared to leave for his nine to five. It would be mere minutes before the tangled mess of hair would relinquish her grip and allow him to head to work. He never wanted to wake up to a world without that beautiful messy hair laying besides him in the morning so he was not prepared to take any chances.
JJ, their daughter, was already heading out that night so Richard demanded she pick up Janice. To another rave or some such shit, Richard had hoped. Anything but a friend's house. Heading out to any one of her friend's house almost always ends in a night of puking or yelling or, more often than not, violence. She's gone in and out of rehab so many times Richard occasionally checked the Guinness world record holder for relapses. If beating a world record came with some sort of monetary prize, it would be the first money JJ would have contributed to the household in about 23 years. Until that day, Richard decided this would be a generous contribution to the family.
Two-thirds of his family now lie in critical condition because of his poor judgment. And of course his daughter's bullshit coke addiction played a major part. Not just in this life-threatening incident but also in the family's financial complications over the past few years. Tahiti will just have to wait, JJ's gotten into another fight with a cop. Disney World will have to make our dreams come true next year, JJ was caught with some dope-fiend friends in the middle of a fucking playground. A playground! If you're gonna break the law have some fucking tact, will you?
His knuckles whitened around the crucifix. With a deep breath he relaxed his grip and closed his eyes. Religion had never really been his thing. It wasn't forced upon him at a young age even though most kids in his hometown had been Christian. The only time he had ever prayed before was sixth grade right before a geography test he was sure he would fail.
"Dear God," he mumbled into his hands. "If...if you can hear me, I really need your help."
He felt absurd but he would not stop. No matter how many concerned side glances the receptionist would give him.
"There's been an accident. My wife and daughter, they're here. They're in critical condition and I feel so helpless." A couple of tears were begging their descent down his cheeks as he spoke.