Can't Stay Away

Brendon’s P.O.V.

I watched, feeling helpless, as the ambulance took Ryan away. And I felt so cowardly. I was hiding, where no one could see me. I wanted to be in that ambulance with Ryan. But I couldn’t. I could see the confusion on the police officers faces, wondering who had done this to this young man.

I had.

I wiped at my eyes, trying to dry the tears that had started after Ryan had passed out. I had tried to wake him up, but there was nothing that I could do. I had heard his breathing—just barely. I knew it wasn’t good. And all I could tell myself was that, I’m just like my father.

This felt like déjà vu, and all I could think of was my mother. I couldn’t help but also repeat over and over that I had killed Ryan. I had killed him. I had loved him. I still love him. And I had killed him. Dead. Because of me. I should be locked in prison.

And I knew I was only making assumptions. I didn’t know if Ryan was actually dead. But still, I had hurt him bad enough where he needed to be taken to the hospital. I had called them. And then I ran. I didn’t know where I was going to go, but I knew that once the police and everyone else left, I was going to go straight to the hospital to check on Ryan.

I looked down at my clothes, seeing Ryan’s blood staining some of the fabric. And for some reason, I threw up. Blood had never made me do that before. But knowing that it was Ryan’s blood, and knowing that Ryan was on his way to the hospital, and knowing that it was my fault, just made my stomach upset. And I threw up.

I knew I had to change clothes before I went and saw Ryan. I waited in my hiding spot quietly, until everyone was gone. I only waited for about thirty minutes. I ran inside Ryan’s house and up to his room, quickly changing my clothes. I knew that walking to the hospital would take a while, so I ran instead.

After what seemed like forever, I finally reached the hospital—sweaty and out of breath. I hurried to the front desk, and took a moment to get my breath back before speaking.

“I’m looking for Ryan Ross,” I said to the receptionist. She nodded her head before typing on her computer.

“He’s in the ICU right now,” she said. “You’ll have to wait. There’s a sitting room right over there.”

I tensed up, muttering a quick thank you before walking over to the waiting area. I sat down, finding it impossible to sit still. I was glad that no one else was around, because I didn’t feel like getting angry stares from anyone. I felt bad enough as it was. I leaned back, resting my head on the wall behind me and closing my eyes.

At some point, I somehow managed to fall asleep. And when I woke up, I was surprised to see Ryan’s mother and father at the front desk, talking to the receptionist. She pointed in my direction and I saw Mrs. Ross glance this way. But then her head snapped back, and watched hesitantly as her eyes narrowed at me. And this is when I got nervous. She started towards me.

“You!” she yelled. “You did this to him! This is your fault!”

But before I could say anything, I saw a doctor coming towards us. Mrs. Ross noticed too and looked at him expectantly, forgetting about me for the moment.

“Are you the parents of…,” he looked down at his clip board. “George Ryan Ross?”

“Yes,” she said at the same time that I said, “George?”

Mrs. Ross shot a glare at me, and I shut up as she looked back at the doctor.

“We were able to stabilize your son, Mrs. Ross,” he said. “He lost a lot of blood, but we were able to get him a blood transfusion quickly. I’m glad that you knew his blood type when you were called or else he wouldn’t have made it.”

I heard Mrs. Ross sigh in relief at the same time as I did.

“There’s just one problem,” the doctor said. “Your son is in a coma. Now he could wake up in a few days, but it could also be months.”

Mrs. Ross pressed a hand over her mouth, and I stared at the doctor in shock.

I had put Ryan into a coma.

“You can see him if you would like,” the doctor said. Mrs. Ross nodded her head and started to follow the doctor. I took a step forward, but Mrs. Ross turned on me.

“I want you to stay away from me and my family,” she said. And without another word, she left me watching as she followed the doctor. And I felt even more scared now.

Would I ever see Ryan again?