Double Trouble


It was on a rainy Friday afternoon at precisely 3:21pm that I had received a phone call from my mother screaming for help. "Please! I beg of you Maurice, please help me!", she said. I was in a pensive state of confusion and I was repeatedly asking, "What mother? What is it that you need?" There was no response, as the phone went completely silent. I called her back a few times, but she didn't answer the phone.

I was at my office which is located in the midst of Time Square, hoping I would finish filing some papers before this upcoming weekend. After receiving this heart-wrenching phone call, there was no time to waste. I quickly ran to the obscure window to my right that was coated with fog so I could get a view of how the traffic was outside. I swiped my hands across the window to get a more clear view of the city and I must say that there was an unbelievable amount of traffic. I was contemplating as to whether I should drive to my mother's house or not, but it was now apparent that driving was not an option. As I was heading out, I grabbed my fluffy brown jacket and black umbrella to keep me warm and dry from the vigorous weather I was about to face.

I was all on my own, as I started sprinting towards my mother's house which is approximately 6 miles away from my office. The concrete beneath my feat was slippery, especially since I was sprinting in my brand new Stefano Bemer dress shoes that I bought for work and future weddings. As I was running my ass off, I was greatly concerned for my mother, considering the fact that not only did she not pick up the phone, but she was initially screaming for help. But for what? What was it that she needed help with that caused her to shout in such a desperate tone? There was no time to think.

Running as fast as I could with an umbrella in one hand, I had no choice but to shove innocent pedestrians aside to make a clear path to reach my destination faster. Little did I know that I was being chased by a policeman until I heard, "Stop! Stop now! Stop or I will pull the trigger!" The word trigger immediately caught my attention and left my heart pounding as if I just had a panic attack. While sprinting, I quickly glanced back and saw a furious policeman who was short and bald; pointing his finger at me and continuing to shout "Stop!" Without much thinking, I closed my umbrella while sprinting, quickly turned around and tossed my umbrella like a spear traveling to penetrate the flesh of an animal. Time froze for a moment, as I watched the spear cut through the air and make it's path towards the officer's face. A direct hit with the tip of the umbrella had left the policeman on the floor, as rain continued to trickle down his face. I instantly felt guilty for partaking in this action, but I knew my mother's urgent need for something takes precedence over anything that came across my path.

I took a quick glance at my phone to see if I had any missed calls. It was 5:03pm and it happened to be that no one had called me. However, what I noticed was that at the top of my phone, the battery bar was almost depleted. I try to make another phone call to my mother to see if she will pick up her phone this time. I finally get in touch with her and my mother answers the phone saying, "Maurice, I don't know if I can wait any longer! I need you to -". Before I got a chance to hear what she wanted all this time, the f*ing battery on my phone dies.


I continue to make my way towards my mother's house without an umbrella, as my clothes continue to absorb water like a sponge. I finally arrive at the front door. I wait outside for about five minutes; ringing the doorbell and knocking on the door, waiting for my mother to open the door. Unfortunately, there was no answer.

I had no choice but to break into the house, and so I did. I took my bare hands, clenched my fist, and punched straight through a window. I shattered the window, but at the same time I shattered my fist. The glass had penetrated my skin and left deep cuts surrounding my knuckles. Finally I entered my mother's home and broke into tears. It couldn't be happening, its just not possible. My mother was in her bed, eyes open, staring straight at the ceiling while her house phone was right beside her left arm. This couldn't be happening.

As I kneel down and hold my mother's warm hands, blood continues to drip and smother onto her hands. I hear multiple sirens that seem to get louder and louder . I walk back towards the front door and take a peek through the window and see a swarm of police cars approaching my mother's home.

Now I'm trapped in an environment filled with criminals, while thoughts of my mother linger in my mind, especially as to what she was asking me for and what the cause of her death was. This information was never exposed to me. This is what I get for pushing aside a measly police officer to attend to my mother who is crying for help. This is what I get for trying to help the most meaningful person in my life. This is the beginning of hell. This is what you call, double trouble.