I turned and ran into the
emergency room. My mom was
there in triage on a gurney. The
doctors were stabilizing her. Her
whole body was soaked in blood.
There was a hole in her face, a
gaping wound above her lip, part of
her nose gone.
She was as calm and serene as
I’d ever seen her. She could still
open one eye, and she turned and
looked up at me and saw the look of
horror on my face.
“It’s okay, baby,” she
whispered, barely able to speak with
the blood in her throat.
“It’s not okay.”