The Call - Alana Weedgrass is out of state

It was 3 AM Arizona time when the phone rang. Alana, groggily and blindly reached out into the dry darkness to find her cell phone. It was her father's ring tone. As she reached, she smacked Jackson by mistake; however, he didn't stir, just rolled over snarfling a little.

Jackson was a new boyfriend. They'd been dating only a few weeks. Alana's divorce wasn't final and the company Jackson contributed to her life wasn't all that bad for the time being, but moments like this pissed her off. It was too ordinary, too soon. She clutched the phone and stumbled into the living room of her first floor apartment.

"Dad?" she sleepily said into the darkness, hoping her eyes would adjust to the scene.

"Alana," her dad said tiredly, "Mom's in trouble."

Her stomach turned. She felt sour. Surely this wasn't coming up again. Years of failed relationships, affairs, workaholic tendencies, Prozac, and a hefty therapy bill had led her to finally accept that her mother wasn't like the other mothers on the playground.

"What happened?" she asked, suddenly wide awake.

"Mom's in jail. They're questioning her again. This time it's a bigger deal. That thing with your brother. I think it's finally happening just like you and I thought it might. Just like we talked about all those years ago, at the park."

Her dad sounded wounded, exhausted, and yet strikingly unemotional. Alana always wondered how he dealt like this. It was eerie how he didn't seem to care on certain levels.

"I think you should fly home. Now. They're going to want to talk to you, I think. I'm going in tomorrow to see what the deal is. They wouldn't let me see her today."

"Okay," was all she replied and hung up.
She sat down on the cold floor with a thud. Legs crossed, her mind reeled. Her brother was one thing. His death was tragic and yet not entirely unexpected. He'd been threatening to off himself for years. She knew the hospital wasn't a good idea. You can't deter someone that bent on hell.

She felt cold, numbed by circumstance and irony. Leaning against the wall, she tried to cry.
It wouldn't come.