Collin Thompson
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Prater 2
The Intervention
Greg’s eyes began to open as he rustled in his bed. He looked around to see his dad sitting in the corner of the room asleep.
A doctor walked through the door and stood next to Greg.
“What happened? Where am I?” asked Greg.
The doctor was silent while she checked the seventeen year old’s vitals on a small machine sitting next to him.
“You’re in Seattle Central Hospital. And you just woke up from a severe concussion,” said the doctor.
Greg sat up trying to recall the events of the previous night. He remembered going to a party and getting drunk. The rest of the night was mostly a blur until the brutal crash. A thought suddenly came to him, “What about Mark, Sean, and Brian? How are they??”
Earlier, he faintly recalled a doctor saying they were in the room next to his. Greg’s doctor said a few words to his father which he could not hear and then left the room.
“Are you ready to leave?” asked Greg’s father.
Greg looked his watch- three o’ clock. He nodded his head and began to collect his clothes and get dressed to leave. When he was ready, Greg and his dad left the room to return home.
As they walked down the hall, Greg looked into the room next to his containing three beds.
“They passed away earlier this morning,” said his father.
The Essay on Justin Mother Room Doctor
Some people have incredibly good luck. I do sometimes, but rarely. I could go on and on about all of the bad things that have happened to me, but they are not that big of a deal. There is only one occurrence that stays strong in my mind. One bright, sunny day, everything was going great, then boom, I was hit. Following this incident, many thoughts have passed through my mind. It was a confusing ...
Greg said nothing and the two continued to make their way back home.
Once they arrived home, Greg went to his backyard to mourn the deaths of his brother and two friends. To his complete and fantastic surprise, he saw Mark sitting on a log by himself. Overcome by emotion, Greg ran over to talk to him.
“I thought you had died Mark! What happened?” said Greg.
“What? I got sent home really early with just a broken arm. Why would you think I’m dead?”
“Well dad said earlier that that you guys…”
“No! Sean and Brian? He meant Sean and Brian? Are they…dead?”
Greg was silent as his brother came to the realization that their two friends had in fact passed away.
Tears built up in the two boys’ eyes and they sat together silent.
Mark broke the silence by saying, “He shouldn’t have driven. Sean knew he was too drunk to drive but he did anyway. Why?”
Greg did not respond to his brother as he felt uncomfortable because he did not even remember that Sean was driving. The last moments with his two best friends he could not remember. He could not remember…
The boys’ father came outside and called out, “Greg, time for dinner!”
The boys went back inside and Greg went to go eat with their father, and Mark turned to go upstairs to his room.
“Aren’t you going to eat with us Mark?” asked Greg.
“I’d rather not,” he responded walking up the stairs.
Neither Greg nor his father said a word throughout dinner. His father just seemed so less happy ever since his wife died, and now he seems even more upset.
Once Greg had finished, he walked up to Mark’s room to find him asleep. He knew that losing Sean and Brian was just like losing two brothers to him. Greg let him sleep and continued to walk to his room to study.
Greg realized that there was no way he could study after such a tragedy so he decided it was better to fall asleep. He slowly closed his eyes and dozed off.
All was silent but Greg woke up.
He wasn’t quite sure what had caused him to wake. He sat up in his bed and looked around for anything that might be out of place. Suddenly the door opened and Brian walked in.
“You’re…you’re dead! How the hell can you be here?” screamed Greg.
Sean walked in carrying an empty case of beer which he threw at Greg. Both of the boys stood next to Greg’s bed and pulled him off, dragging him across the floor. He tried futilely to grab on to something but couldn’t so his finger nails scraped violently against the wood floor as he was dragged out of his room by the two boys. As he was he began to black out but he could faintly see Mark in the hallway just watching this happen…
The Essay on Mark Twain 10
1835-1910 Samuel Clemens was born on November 30, 1835 in Florida, Missouri, the sixth of seven children. At the age of four, Sam and his family moved to the small frontier town of Hannibal, Missouri on the banks of the Mississippi River. Missouri, at the time, was a fairly new state (it had gained statehood in 1820) and comprised part of the country's western border. It was also a slave state. ...
Greg sat up suddenly in his bed, sweating profusely and breathing deeply.
“It…it was only a dream,” he said in a sigh of relief.
It was six thirty-seven in the morning so Greg decided to take a shower and get ready for school. Once he was ready he went into Mark’s room to see him awake and sitting up in his bed. He was sitting cross-legged facing away from Greg.
“Mark are you okay? How did you sleep?” asked Greg.
“Yes… I am fine. But no I did not sleep well,” responded Mark.
“I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m leaving for school soon if you need a ride.”
Mark was silent so Greg left and went downstairs.
Greg’s father told him that he could take Mark’s car to school since his was in the shop. Greg thanked his dad quickly and left for school.
For the next few days he tried to get back in a normal routine while it seemed like Mark became less and less lively; just sitting in his room all day. When the weekend came, Greg decided to go to a party to take his mind off of the past week. He made Mark come although he was very reluctant at first.
The two arrived at the party which was at house in the middle of the woods at about eight-thirty. Greg’s first impulse was to grab a beer but he thought of the consequences of last weekend so he decided against it.
“Greg it’s okay, just take a beer. I can drive us home if you me need to,” said Mark.
“Alright thanks bro!” Greg said grabbing his first beer.
Before he new it, Greg had had seven beers and two shots of vodka.
“Where is Mark?” he thought to himself.
He wobbled around the house looking for Mark. After ten minutes of searching he made his way back to his car and decided he would have to drive himself home.
Half knowing that it was a very bad to drive home in such a state, Greg decided to anyway. He started the car and began winding through the curvy forest road. He felt aware and alert of the road for the most part. Winding and winding, winding and winding, until SMASH. Greg’s car hit the base of a tree on the side of one of the turns. Greg slowly blacked out as he thought, “Why am I so stupid? Why couldn’t I learn from Sean…?”
The Essay on Leave Home Father Siddhartha One
The father- son relationship has always been regarded as a kind of sacred bond. Dads teach their sons many important lessons in life, and those things will guide them through the future. The father-son relationship in Siddhartha by Herman Hesse (New York: New Directions, 1951), is much like a typical relationship. Both father and son love each other and want the best for one another. As the story ...
Greg opened his eyes to see his brother and father standing over him. He was again in the hospital but this time nothing was calm. Many doctors and Nurses rushed in and out and machines were beeping everywhere.
Greg’s father asked how this had happened and he responded, “I got too drunk at a party and Mark said he could take me home, but when I looked I couldn’t find-”
His father interrupted him mid-sentence, “Greg, you know Mark died last week in your crash last weekend.”
“No he’s, he’s been with me for the past week,” Greg said looking over at Mark.
Mark sat there staring at him. Staring and not saying a single word. Sean and Brian walked in and whispered in Greg’s ear, “YOU deserve to be with us. You’re the reason we’re dead. You should be here with us and Mark was just intervening to ensure that.”
Greg was overwhelmed by shock and the next thing he knew, Mark had overcome him and his hands seemed to suck the life out of him. He blacked out for the last time…
