I called for help..

I was looking for mom but she was no where to be seen. I went upstairs and headed to her room. The sliding door to her walk-in wardrobe was closed. I tried to push the sliding door but it was too tight for me. I then thought of an idea by applying some weight with my left leg against the door to leave a gap between the wall and the door so that I could insert my hands into the gap to push the sliding door to the side. But, alas! My hand got trapped in between the gap. I called for help! But mom didn’t hear me. I burst into tears and kept calling for mom. It was no use at all as she couldn’t hear me. Where’s mom?

What can a panic-stricken boy do at this moment of pain?

I put on more weight against the sliding door with my left leg again so that the gap was opened wide enough to release my hand. I was so lucky to be able to save myself.

I went back to the living hall downstairs and saw mom scanning for something from the fridge. I ran to her and showed her the mark on my hand. She had a bottle of Vitagen held in her hand. And when she asked me what happened, I told her what I’ve written here. She kissed the mark on my hand nonstop and kept asking me if it was still painful. She told me she was in the garden watering the plants and feeding the kois and guppies.

Mom kept on apologizing for not being there when I called for help. She felt so bad for what had happened. However, I had to endure a long lecture from her in the car when we headed to GranMa’s house for dinner. But it’s ok.. I get to enjoy my Vitagen while listening to her nag. 🙂

RSS feed | Trackback URI

Comments »

No comments yet.

Name (required)
E-mail (required - never shown publicly)
URI
Your Comment (smaller size | larger size)
You may use <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong> in your comment.

Trackback responses to this post