Taraji Inez Monroe was going through the toughest time of her life. Her mother had been diagnosed with a serious heart condition and needed emergency surgery to get a stent put in. The only problem was that the surgery cost a fortune, and Tara was desperate to find a way to save her mother's life. She had been blessed with good looks and a banging body, and she knew that there was only one thing she could sell to raise the money her mother needed. And what better place than a high-end club to kickstart her plan where she knew the highest bidders would be? As she made her way through the swarming mass of people, her gaze fell upon a man who emanated an aura of mystery. He was ruggedly handsome, with sharp features and a firm jawline. His eyes were deep-set and piercing. Despite his captivating appearance, there was an air of arrogance about him that made her hesitate and before she knew it, she was in his hotel room bent over. Antonio Nikos Valioso, the bipolar heir claimed her virtue in the most brutal way possible and then announced that he would marry her as tradition demanded. ...
Tara left her office, feeling a sense of exhaustion washing over her. It had been a long day of schmoozing clients and fielding endless phone calls. All she wanted to do was take a shower, be a couch potato, and veg out in front of the TV with her mother. She opened the door to her apartment carrying a bag of takeout, her feet aching in her heels.
She kicked off her shoes and sighed in relief. She saw her mother's coat was still hanging on the coat rack meaning she was home.
"Mom! I'm home!" she called out, expecting to hear her mother's warm voice.Silence was the only response.
"Mom?" she called out again louder so her mom could hear.
Again, there was no answer. The house was eerily quiet and her heart began beating faster.
"Mom?" she called out, this time a little bit softer. When she didn't get an answer, she started to get worried. She set down the bag of takeout on the counter and flicked on the light, and her heart sank. Her mother was lying on the floor, completely still.
She rushed to her side, fear gripping her heart. "Oh, my God!" she exclaimed. "Mom!" She knelt by her mother's side, "Mom, can you hear me? Mom!" she yelled. "No, no, no!" she cried.
Her mind was racing and her thoughts were a jumbled mess. How could this be happening? Her mother had been fine just this morning. She was supposed to be watching her favorite TV show right now, not lying on the floor. "I have to call 911," she cried aloud. She fumbled for her phone, her hands shaking as she dialed the number.
"911, what's your emergency?" the dispatcher asked.
"My mother!" she exclaimed, her voice breaking. "She's not breathing!
"Okay, I need you to stay calm," the dispatcher replied. "What's your address?"
Tara rattled off her address, trying to keep her voice from shaking.
"An ambulance is on the way. In the meantime, I need you to try to resuscitate your mother." She replied.
Tara's heart was pounding in her chest. "What? I... I can't..." she stammered.
"I know it's scary, but you have to try," the dispatcher assured firmly. "What's your name?", the dispatcher asked in a soft voice. "Tara", she whimpered.
"Alright Tara, I'm going to walk you through it. First, I need you to check if your mother is breathing. Do you see her chest rising and falling?"
Tara leaned over her mother's body, terrified of what she might find, she held her breath and observed, to her relief, she saw her mother's chest rising and falling ever so slightly.
"Yes," she said, her voice quivering. "She's breathing, but very shallowly."
"Okay, that's good. Now, I need you to check her pulse," the dispatcher instructed. "
Her breath shook as she fumbled around with her mother's hand, "How... how do I find her pulse?.
"Take a deep breath, Tara. Place two fingers on your mother's wrist, just below her thumb and feel for her pulse."
Her hands shaking, she placed two fingers on her mother's wrist. She waited a few seconds, and then she felt it, a faint, but steady pulse. Relief washed over her, and for a moment, she felt like she could breathe again. "I found her pulse!" she exclaimed. "She has a pulse!"
"That's wonderful!" the dispatcher acknowledged. "Now, I need you to start CPR. Can you do that?"
"Yes," Tara replied, steeling herself. "Tell me what to do."
"Okay, first I need you to put your hands together, palm to palm,"
"Next, I need you to place the heel of your hand on your mother's breastbone, in the center of her chest. Place your other hand on top of your first hand, and then interlace your fingers."
Tara did as the dispatcher instructed, her heart racing as she prepared to start CPR.
"Now I need you to press down hard and fast," the dispatcher instructed. "Push down at least two inches, and do it about 100 times a minute. Ready?"
"Yes," Tara affirmed, taking several calming breaths.
"Okay, on my count," the dispatcher said. "One, two, Three!" the dispatcher counted.
Tara placed her hands on her mother's chest and began pushing down hard and fast, just as the dispatcher had instructed. She tried to block out the fear and panic and just focus on the task at hand. As she pushed down on her mother's chest, she prayed for her to wake up.
"Good," the dispatcher encouraged. "Keep going. How are you holding up?"
"I'm... I'm okay," she said between breaths. "I'm just scared."
"I know this is scary," the dispatcher replied in a soothing voice. "But you're doing a great job," she continued. "And the paramedics are on their way. They're going to take over for you soon, so just keep going for as long as you can. I know it's tiring, but it's so important."
Tara nodded, even though the dispatcher couldn't see her. She kept pushing down on her mother's chest, her arms beginning to ache. But she pushed through the pain, knowing that her mother's life depended on it.
"You're doing so great, just a little longer," the dispatcher continued. "How are you feeling?"
"I can... I can do this," she replied, her voice trembling. "I'm... I'm not giving up."
"That's the spirit!" the dispatcher responded encouragingly. "You're doing such a wonderful job. Can you tell me your mother's name?"
"Sure," Tara replied, her breath coming in gasps. "Her name is... Mary."
"Okay, Mary," the dispatcher called out. "Keep fighting, Mary. You're doing so well. Your daughter is doing a great job."
"Thank you," Tara responded, tears streaming down her face. She kept pushing down on her mother's chest with all the strength she had left. "I love you, Mom," she whispered. "Please don't leave me."
Just then, there was a knock on the door. "The paramedics are here!" the dispatcher exclaimed. "They're going to take over for you now. Just tell them what you've been doing, and they'll take it from there."
Tara heard the paramedics enter the apartment, their voices calm and reassuring. She stumbled to her feet, letting them take over. As she watched them work on her mother, she sank to the floor, the adrenaline leaving her body.
As she sat there, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and saw a paramedic kneeling beside her, a kind smile on his face. "You did a great job, young lady," he said. "Your mother is lucky to have you."
Tara nodded, unable to speak. She watched as the paramedics loaded her mother onto a gurney and wheeled her out of the apartment. One of the paramedics came over to her and placed her hand on her shoulder softly, "are you going to come along with us on the ambulance or will you be driving behind us?" She chose the former as she couldn't think of being away from her mum.
She followed the ambulance all the way to the hospital, her heart pounding and her breath catching in her throat. As the paramedics wheeled her mother into the emergency room, she watched with a sense of helplessness, praying to whatever deity might be listening to spare her mother's life.
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