FAITH, FAITH ALEXANDER, Stay with me is all I could hear as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I could feel myself drifting. She's losing too much blood.
''Apply pressure, Get her oxygen!
We have to move quick.'' A voice unknown to me said.
I could feel myself being lifted onto something hard. I feel nothing but excruciating pain. Furthermore, I try to speak, but no words would come out. I can see bright lights and hear sirens as they are blasting in the background. I was inside an ambulance. I try to move, but my body laid motionless. What was happening to me? I hear the voices, but I can't seem to make out what they are saying. Still in and out of consciousness I could feel death around me. My body is getting weak. I'm getting tired. Hard to fight it. I can see the paramedics working on me. I could see the look of distress in their eyes. It's getting harder for me to breathe. The surrounding air is so thin. I think I see my mom. Had she come back for me?
“Her blood pressure is dropping We're losing her, we're losing her.
Clear, Clear.” I hear before I black out. I awaken two days later in the hospital. I managed to get my eyes to open. My body felt as though I was floating. Has to be the drugs. I have needles in my arm and a catheter between my legs. I'm plugged up to monitors. I try to lift my right hand to examine my wound but winch at my own touch. Although I was numb, the pain was unbearable. Never have I endured such pain. I gently touch my shoulder. Still fairly uncertain of the past few days I had a lot of questions. Before another thought could be formed, in walks a doctor, nurse and policemen.
“Good Afternoon Ms Alexander. I'm doctor Chavez” How are you” he asks as he examines me. Blood pressure is stable, you're back to breathing on your own. You're going to be an okay he assures me. Still a bit uncertain and shaky I asked what happened to me. Why am I here. Officer Paxton then explained that three days ago a call came through to 911. The dispatcher could not make verbal contact with me, so officers were dispatched to my location. Upon arriving officers noticed a broken door and glass. They entered your home and found you lying on the kitchen floor. The intruder attacked you with a knife. You killed the intruder using a cast iron skillet. Fractured his skull. He said. “We are truly sorry for your loss. I know your daughter will be truly missed.
“WHA… WHAT!! NO,
SHE CAN'T BE!!
SHE'S NOT DEAD, SHE.CAN'T BE!!''
I scream over and over. The doctor then chimes in. Ms. Alexander you lost a lot of blood that night. Paramedic has to resuscitate you. When the brain loses oxygen even for a short time it can cause short term memory loss. We're not certain at this point the extent of the damage caused to you. Unfortunately your daughter was also present in the home at the time of the attack. We did everything we could, but she didn't make it.” he said. Your daughter suffered from internal hemorrhaging from the stab wombs. Evidence suggest that you were upstairs at the time. There were signs of a struggle upstairs. You have carpet fibers embedded in your skin are consistent with a carpet burn, you were drugged down the stairs.
SHE'S GONE! I CAN'T BELIEVE SHE'S GONE!!
Right then and there my mind shut down. WHY!! Is all I screamed on the inside. I shut down completely. No more words to be spoken.
“I'm awake I'm awake.” I screamed out loud as I jump up from my reoccurring nightmare. I have been haunted of that night since it happened. Still feeling like death was upon me, I managed to force myself out of bed. I needed a drink of water. My heart still ached due to the loss of my baby girl. Kinsley was my one and only child and a coward took her away from me. Although It has almost been a year since the accident, it seemed like just yesterday when my entire world crashed. It started out as a normal day for the both of us and ended with a disaster. It was school for her, then work for me. Kinsley was the most resilient 17-year-old known to me. She was always upbeat and full of life. She loved writing. It was her passion, as it was mine once. She aspired to become a screenwriter. Everyone one loved her. I still do. I miss her terribly. Her father couldn't handle her loss, so he drank himself to death. I often miss him as well, but truth be told our marriage was over way before this travesty.
The ringing of the phone brought me out of my now daydream. I didn't bother to answer. Why would anyone be calling me. My friends weren't my friends anymore. I guess they couldn't handle my depression. With that thought, came remembering why I became depressed in the first place. My sweet baby girl was taken from me. Why did he have to come into my house? Why did our security alarm fail us! But my biggest one yet is why I, as her mother, couldn't save her? I sometimes feel as though I failed her.
The phone rang again this time startling me. I'm still not going to answer, but I will check to see who it could possibly be. In doing so, I realized I didn't recognize the number. I waited for a minute to see if the caller left a voicemail. They did. It was my attorney calling from his car phone. He wanted me to meet him at his office at noon. He didn't say much after except he hopes to speak with me soon. It was barely ten o'clock, so I didn't immediately call him back, instead, I made my way to Kinsley's room. I left everything exactly the way it was. I'm not ready to pack it up. My therapist thinks it's about time. I happen to disagree. I can't let her go. I won't let her go. As I sit on the bed reminiscing about our good times together, I notice her little black notebook just sitting there. I've noticed it before but never had the courage to open it. It felt like a violation of her privacy. Those were her thoughts, her words. How can I intrude in that? Then I came to realize she would want me to have it. She trusted me with her thoughts and words while she was alive and now wouldn't be any different. I walk to her dresser and pick it up. It was branded by Moleskine. She loved all of their products especially this little black notebook. She once told me that all of her words come to life when puts them in her notebook. I clutch it and hold it tighter and closer to my chest. Still unable to bring myself to open it, I take it with me to lie across her bed. With tears streaming down my face, I close my eyes.
I must have drifted off to sleep because the sound of the phone ringing startled me once again, this time causing me to jump up and run to the phone. I made sure to close the door behind me. I make it to the phone right before it was about to send it to voicemail. “Hello, hello, I'm here, Can you hear me?” I shout into the phone. “Yes ma'am, Miss Abrams. This is Mr. Walters calling.” He responded. “I got your message, and I'll be on my way soon.” I replied. “Okay, talk soon.' I then hung up. Reluctant to get myself together, I moved in slow motion. I'm now wondering what could be so urgent. With that in mind I made myself presentable enough and left home. The drive there was short and sweet so no complaints. Upon entering the parking lot I realized there were only three cars and one of which belonged to my attorney. What's really going on? I thought as I exited my vehicle. Briskly entering the building, I was greeted by a short fluffy lady. She has a colorful personality. I prefer her over the one usually at the desk. If rudeness has a face, it would be hers. She leads me into a room where there were four people waiting for me. I only recognized one.
" Good afternoon Miss Alexander, it's nice of you to join us.” Began Mr. Walters. I'm Attorney Mike Nash and joining me is Attorney Natalia Goldstein. We are here representing the Davis and Davis law firm.” Mr. Nash went on to say as he extended his hand as if I wanted to shake it. “Good afternoon” is all he got. “Please take a seat ma'am. We're here to discuss the legal situation at hand. I want to first start by saying I and everyone at S&M Security LLC is truly sorry for your loss. The company accepts full responsibility for your malfunctioning security device that was designed to prevent such travesties.” He said. Ms Alexander they're prepared to offer you a twenty thousand dollars settlement check. Mr. Nash states. Including my fees as well. I sit there in complete awe. It wasn't really about the money. The four of us conversed for a short while. I excepted the offer only because the only person I could hold account for her death was already gone. The drive home seemed to take a little longer. I now had twenty thousand dollars to spend. How would I spend it? I soon arrive home. I have myself some dinner and a couple glasses of wine. Realizing I still had Kinsley's notebook, I pull it out. I nervously open it. I finally understand why she said that her black notebook came with its own history.
I began to read her thoughts. She was so talented. I poured another glass of wine and curled up on the sofa. I read more and more. Furthermore, I was so proud of the person she was becoming. I stumbled upon a page in her notebook. It read You have to be willing to do what you have to do in order to get what you need done did. That is something I have always told her as she strived for greatness. Then it hit me. I know how I will spend this money. I'm sure to make Kinsley proud. Sleeping on it, I woke up with that quote on my mind. That was my motivation for the day. I decided to put my money to good use. I am going to start a foundation, in honor of Kinsley. I am going to help mentor the minds of young writers. Today is the day I take my life back. Kinsley inspired me. I feel as if I have to do this. For the first time in years I put a pen to my own little black notebook. I had to come up with a plan and there's no better way to do it. I had to get it done. And four years later not only had it been done but had become one of the top foundations. Some many talented writers were giving a chance only because I decided to do what I had to do in order to get what I needed to be done did. And it's all thanks to my darling baby girl. I may not have you but I have your notebook. I keep it close for inspiration. As you rest in peace, I promise to make you proud. I close my notebook. I'll make that my last entry of the night. Bedtime is upon me. Nothing but sweet dreams.