Make your own free website on

I m p r i s o n e d

Home | Chapter 52 | Chapter 51 | Chapter 50 | Chapter 49 | Chapter 48 | Chapter 47 | Chapter 46 | Chapter 45 | Chapter 44 | Chapter 43 | Chapter 42 | Chapter 41 | Chapter 40 | Chapter 39 | Chapter 38 | Chapter 37 | Chapter 36 | Chapter 35 | Chapter 34 | Chapter 33 | Chapter 32 | Chapter 31 | Chapter 30 | Chapter 29 | Chapter 28 | Chapter 27 | Chapter 26 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 1
Chapter 19


In the waiting room, I stared at the clock. It had been 2 hours since Taylor's seisure and there still had been no word. I was tired of waiting, tired of trying to answer the same question in my mind; was my brother even alive anymore? Sighing, I picked up "Teen People Magazine". It was the only magazine left that I hadn't read yet. Propping my feet up on the small wooden table, I sat back and started flipping through the pages. Celebrity this, celebrity that. Nothing special to someone who knows most those people, or atleast lives the same life they do. I stopped on the page that read "Hanson: Are The MMMBop Days Over?" It had been a while since I'd seen an article about us in a magazine and I was a little intrigued until I realized the story was 5 years old and told all about This Time Around. Ike's cell started to ring and everyone in the room turned to look at him. Mouthing the word sorry, he left the room. I glanced up at the big sign that read: 'Please turn off cell phones at all times. Thank you, the Management.' I shook my head. Ike never did follow what those damn things said. I remembered the first time I had seen this waiting room; it had only been just last night, but it seemed to have been an eternity. Time creeped by, leaving us all puzzled as to what was going on with Taylor. Suddenly, Natalie slammed down her magazine, sighing.
"I can't take it anymore!" she screamed, getting up from her seat. She walked briskly to the nurses' desk, looking as if she were about to pounce on the poor woman sitting behind it.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes, you can," Natalie breathed. I could tell she was mad. It was kinda cute when she got mad. She was like a little girl. She tried to be mad, but you could always see that hint of innocence in her eyes. Natalie continued as I sat there, watching, half laughing to myself.
"I would like to know what is going on with my husband," Natalie snapped. "I am sick and tired of waiting." The woman nodded and typed something in on the computer in front of her.
"And what's your husbands name, dear?" the old woman asked. I could now see her nametag. It read the name Doris.
"Jordan Taylor Hanson," Natalie said through her teeth. Everyone in the waiting room turned to stare.
"What?!" Natalie screamed. Everyone turned back to their magazine. That is, except me. Natalie should have known to speak softly when she announced his name, but no one here really seemed a danger; about 5 or 6 old folks, a few middle-aged men. No big deal, but it could have been worse. Doris finally found Taylor's name on the computer.
"Your husband is in recovery right now, would you like to be notified when he is ready to be seen?" she asked. Natalie looked at her with a strange look.
"Yes, I would...did you say he's in recovery? Does that mean he's had his surgery already?" Natalie seemed utterly confused. Myself, I was just glad he was alive.
"Yes, ma'am, that is usually what you go to recovery for..." No sooner had Doris said it than tears streamed down Natalie's cheeks.
"Oh, thank God!" she choked, falling to her knees. I ran over and helped her up, giving her a hug. She couldn't have said it any better. Thank God, indeed; Taylor was alive! As she wiped away her tears, I noticed Ike making his way back into the waiting room.
"What's going on?" he asked. I smiled.
"Taylor's alive," I explained, "He's in recovery." Ike threw his arms around me, smiling and laughing for the first time in a long time.
"Things just keep getting better!" he declared. What? I tilted my head, looking at him.
"I just got off the phone with my lawyer," Ike laughed, "I'm going to court next week, we're flying home tomorrow night!" I smiled, then laughed. Maybe things would turn out ok after all.