Second draft....I guess....(Now Edited!)

The young boy sobbed silently, as he waited, alone, in the hospital hallway. His mother had been taken away. He didn't know where she was. Doctors passed by without comment or concern for the crying child, but it didn't matter to the child. In his mind, only one thought, repeating itself endlessly, " What if she had died and they had just forgotten to tell me?"
This wasn't the first time that thoughts of death had consumed Timothy's mind, but this was the first time that he had been truly scared of dying. He remembered that a few years earlier, he had owned a goldfish, Emmett. He had loved that goldfish like a mother loves a child. Everyday he cared for it, feeding it, cleaning it's aquarium, everything. Then, one day, it had just stopped living. He had woken up, and found it floating, bottom-up, dead. He had cried, a little. But, he had been okay with it. He had felt that Emmett must have gone to a better place, (although, the world isn't really good or bad to a fish) some sort of fish-heaven. He had been able to cope, as they flushed his dear friend down the toilet. Why was it so much harder now, when he didn't even know whether his mother was dead or not? That was why. It was his mother, and it was the not knowing, the waiting, the lonely forgotten feeling that was scaring him. The feeling that he would never see his mother again. Tears formed in Timothy's bright green eyes, but his sobs stayed silent. He didn't want to draw attention. He wanted to mourn in private.
He thought about the events leading up to this moment, this horrifying moment. He had ran to get ice cream, the ice cream truck's tinny music ringing down the street. His mother had given him enough money for an ice cream sandwich, his favorite, in fact, the only kind of ice cream he liked. He remembered smiling, and wondered how he could have been so happy. Sitting in that cold hospital hallway, he couldn't even remember what it was to be happy. The ice cream had been so good, the vendor so friendly, and he had been in complete childish bliss when he had heard it. It was a woman screaming in pain. It rang through his ears like a siren. It was his mother screaming. Without thought, he was running, running back to his driveway, running to the backyard, running to his mother, his screaming, suffering mother.
There was blood everywhere. At first, he couldn't tell where it was coming from, but his mother told him. It was coming from her foot. She had accidentally stepped on a nail, and now her shoe was nailed to her foot. Timothy winced thinking of the pain she must have been in. He had ran for help, and found the neighbor. Carefully, he had helped remove the shoe from her foot, but the blood was still coming. They had to go to the hospital. Timothy couldn't stop thinking, so many bad things could happen. Things like "blood loss" and "tetanus" rushed through his mind. He was scared, more scared than he had ever been in his life. His mother was not safe, she was in danger. This was the first time the possibility of losing her had even occured to him. He had sat frozen in his seat, as they drove to the hospital.
It had all happened so fast, the doctors taking her away, then he was all alone. That was when his heart surrendered and let him cry. That was when his mind started reminding him of the fear, "What if she had died, and they had just forgotten to tell me?" Now, here he was, exactly the same, except the fear was coming to a boil. He knew he couldn't hold it in for much longer.
"Timothy," the voice of an angel came to him. Quickly, he turned toward it. It was his mother! She was limping a little, but she was fine. The smile was instant and huge, spreading across his face with perfect joy. His mother was alright. He ran to her waiting arms, hugging her. His mother was alright.