"Don't panic, but.."

Well today has been a little bundle of horrible supprises now hasn't it?

I woke up to an empty house. It took me half an hour of being awake to realise this, as i am usually the first person awake, however as i routinely went into the kitchen, an ominous note was left for me by my mother.

"Don't panic, but i've had to take Ben to A&E. Get yourself off to school. Love Ma' x."

What was i supposed to do? Father was nowhere to be seen (presumably on a buisness trip or something) and, to my horror, i had to make my own sandwiches for lunch. I sumberged myself into the indie folk of Stornoway to calm me down, and as always, i went to catch the bus.

Fastforward to 4.15pm. I had just said my goodbyes to the wonderful Art Department staff at my school. I handed in my exam project, beaming. I no longer had a reason to set foot in M08 ever again. It was a sad event, but also an almost liberating feeling. I left my home-from-home, and ambled my way to the late bus. Sat down at the back, earphones in, then checked my phone. Three misssed calls from my father, and a voicemail. The first word that came to mind was explicit. The voicemail was crackily, but from what i could gather, my brother had to have an operation of some sorts. Again, explicit words came to mind. Whatever it was for, it went well. But i still burst into tears, to the bemusement of my schoolmates.

Fastforward to arriving home. I still couldn't get my head around it. We were sparring kung fu style only the previous evening. Well, whatever, I have to go up the hospital tonight to see him possibly, if they don't let him out, which they still might. I'm being optamistic. I hate hospitals.