Dear you - Bridget Kathleen (best motivational books TXT) 📗

her mother stepped back and that's when Bianca saw her father. The two smiled at each other.
Her father, Edward, placed a warm hand on hers and squeezed it lightly. The parents were happy to see that their little girl was still alive and that she has woken up.
"It's a miracle you survived!" said her mother. "We were so worried about you. Your father and I could hardly sleep..." Bianca's mother went on with how worried she was about her and how things were going back at home. Some of it made her smile and others not so much. At the same time Bianca felt happy and sad. Happy to be back, but sad to be gone. She wasn't sure if her feelings made any sense, they were happening and she couldn't control them.

Later on that day, after her parents had to leave because of visiting hours, she had requested to see Evelyn. She didn't care if she wasn't awake; she just wanted to see her friend. Bianca was placed into a dark blue wheelchair and taken to Evelyn's room by a different nurse. As she entered the room Bianca saw that Evelyn was in worse condition than she and felt like crying for her friend who couldn't do it for herself. Bianca told the nurse to leave her be and so she was. She sat there in her wheelchair, staring at her sleeping friend, knowing full well where she really was. She was back in 1899 with the O'Brian's. Bianca reached out and touched her friends hand. "Evelyn...if you can hear me then great, but if you can't I don't care, but I need to say this before I go mad...Are you really there? Are you really asleep? If not, then why is your body still here? It just doesn't make any sense! The car tumbled, we crashed, passed out because of it, but why on earth would we go back in time? That's something I don't understand and it scares me. I fear I may never walk again. I fear I may be blind in one eye. My left arm is shattered and my head hurts like hell and I can hardly feed myself. I just wish...I just wish you were here...and awake. Where did we go wrong? C'mon, Evelyn...Wake up from this silly dream already!...Ok?" Evelyn did not steer though. She didn't even make a sound; move a pinky even or an eyelid. Nothing. It was as if Evelyn was sitting doll, all laid out nicely on her bed, only she was bandaged up. Maybe staying asleep is what Evelyn truly need? Who would want to wake up to this nightmare?
Chapter 12: Reality sucks

Evelyn sat by Bianca's bed side, praying that her dear friend would wake up soon. After a hit to the face by a board, it knocked her out cold and Evelyn somehow got an eerie feeling because of it. A welt on Bianca's forehead started to bruise more and Evelyn knew that once she woke up it would be a killer head ache. Suddenly a knock came to the door; it was Sybelle.
"Evelyn, dear, it's time for supper. Won't ya come down?"
Evelyn slowly shook her head and softly spoke. "No thank you, ma 'am." she said to her. "I don't have much of an appetite right now." Sybelle said nothing but nodded and closed the door. Evelyn sighed deeply. "C'mon, Bianca. Wake up! A slap to the face like that couldn't have been that bad...could it?" Evelyn reached her hand over and squeezed Bianca's.

~

Bianca sat in the back seat of her parent’s car, watching the other vehicles drive by. Her parents talked, but she heard not a word of it. She was dazed, confused, upset. What was worse was that she had no idea what she wanted. Torn between two worlds was enough to drive anyone up the wall. Bianca noticed a droplet of rain splash on the window; she looked up and saw more heading it's way to the dirty yet beautiful city. She rolled down the window, reaching her arm out the window and feeling the cool air brush past her hand and the side of her face.
"Bianca, roll up that window, you'll catch cold." said her mother.
Bianca did not listen to her mother's words though and continued to enjoy the nice fresh air.

When she got home, Bianca was rolled in her wheel chair by her father who led her to the living room where her mother made out a small bed on the couch.
"Is there something wrong with my room?" Bianca asked, watching as her mother placed a pillow down to finish it all off.
"No," she replied.
"Then why can't I sleep in there?" she asked.
Her mother sighed. "You’re dad and I think it's best if you stay away from stairs. Also, you'll be down here with us so we'll be able to hear you if you call for us."
"I'll just text you." she said. She then suddenly remember that she no longer a had a cell phone since the accident. "Oh...Never mind," she said. Her father was about to help her out of the wheel chair but she insisted that she do it herself. And she did.
When that was said and done, Bianca laid on the long velvety covered couch and stared up at the ceiling. She stared at it so long she started to make out figures on the wall and soon she started talking to them. "What are you looking at?" she said to a figure that looked like a fat old man. "Get that smile off you're dirty face," she then looked to another figure and said, "Well look at you," she said quietly, hardly making a sound. The figure looked like woman with her hair all pinned up and getting ready for some kind of party. The woman looked like Sybelle almost and Bianca felt a hot tear roll down her cheek. "I want to be happy too..." she said, looking at the womanly figure. Bianca then dozed off, leaving the figures on the walls to comfort themselves.

The next day Bianca demanded to go to the library. She had fought her father on the subject for a good hour before he finally gave in and took her. She didn't care if she was all bandaged up; she felt the need to go and find things out. Of what? She wasn't quite sure yet and whatever it was she would find it there.
When she got to the library, finding a quiet place to be she had asked her father to help her look for things on New York in the late 1800's. When she told him this he gave her a funny look but did it anyway. On the other hand, Bianca went off to find some more serious information on her own; something more on topic.
Bianca looked from shelf-to-shelf, not having very good luck with anything until a book fell high from its shelf, giving her a little scare. She rolled around on her wheel chair to see a dusty torn up book on the floor. She went over to it and picked it up, blowing and brushing off the dust; she was hoping to find some kind of label on front but she saw nothing. She looked on the side and even on the back and still saw nothing. Bianca decided to take this as a hint and placed the book on her lap and rolled back to her table where she found her dad setting down four books.
"Thanks dad," she said.
"If you need anything," he said, "I'll be just down the hall on the computer. I have some writing to get done for work." Bianca nodded twice and her dad left her to her reading.

Bianca read for what seemed like a good hour before she finally set down the second book she had picked up; she rubbed her eyes, strained from reading too much for too long, thinking that coming here was all just a big mistake until she glanced over at the book she had found. She opened it and flipped through the first couple of pages, not finding much of an interest in them. She then came across the lines of, "New York City; the way it was." The label was catchy and she began to read. She was hooked by the first couple of sentences and wanted to read more. Suddenly a hand landed on her shoulder and she jumped.
"Sorry," it was her father. "Didn't mean to scare you. Find anything you like?" Bianca slowly shook her head. "That's too bad," he told her. "We'll come back another day. We have to go now and you need your rest." Her father was probably right about the resting part, but she wasn't so sure about the coming back part so she slipped the dirty book into her bag without anyone seeing and went on home.

Later that night, Bianca sat at the dinner table with her parents. She kept glancing back at her bag that was in the living room with the book in it. She had taken something from the library and she had never done that before and it left a weird yet exciting feeling in her belly. She took one last bite of her baked potato and slid her plate forward.
"You didn't eat much." her mother commented, looking up from her plate and over at her daughter.
"Not that hungry." Bianca stated.
Her mother laughed. "You can't be serious. You got out of a coma and you have hardly ate anything since you woke up and you’re not that hungry?" she scoffed this time. "Finish your plate." she ordered. Bianca said nothing to her mother and removed herself from the dinner table. "Bianca? Where do you think you’re going?"
"My room," she said in an irritated tone.
She heard her mother stand up from her chair by the sound of it sliding behind her. "You need to be down stairs." her mother told her, following after her. "You can't get up there by yourself.
Bianca suddenly stopped. The room was quiet for a while. "Can't do it...by myself?" Bianca said slowly. "Then why don't...you help me." she said.
Her mother gave out a heavy sigh. "Don't make things harder than it already is, Bianca."
Again it was quiet. "Harder?" she repeated. "Harder?...You don't know what hard is." she said.
"WHAT?" her mother snapped. "I'd like you to say that again." she said.
Bianca ignored her mother this time and stood up from the wheel chair and took her first step on the stairs.
"Bianca..." she heard her father say. "Come down." he said softly.
Bianca would not hear any of it though. She took another step, holding on to the railing as she went up.
"Honey, do something." she heard mother say. Her father was at a loss for words, he knew that Bianca was a strong young woman and would easily defended if someone helped her with anything that would hurt her pride.
One-by-one, Bianca reached the top of the stairs and went into her room. When she opened the door an old familiar smell went up her nose. She smiled a little, but soon that smile faded. The smell was not as comforting as she