Last Night On Earth
Last Night On Earth
I’m an idiot. If I’d been there for Billie when he needed me, none of this would have happened. He wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed right now with a broken foot, arm, and leg, as well as possible internal bleeding and other unknown things. He wouldn’t be breaking out in a cold sweat or burning up with a 105 degree temperature one minute to the next without warning.
He wouldn’t be dying right before my eyes.
We’ve been here for maybe two hours since I found him. He’d been alone and injured for about three before that. We’re in the emergency room, but right now there aren’t any doctors in the room. They’re out getting the result for his x-rays and other tests they ran.
I look down at him again. I hate myself for not being there to protect him. His eyes are closed tightly from the pain; the morphine must not be doing its job. Beads of sweat stand out on his forehead from the effort it must be taking for him to not cry out. His black hair is sticking close to his head, and there’s some in his eyes. I brush it aside gently, and his eyelids part a bit. The green eyes that peer up at me have lost their lively glint and are now dull and seem almost lifeless.
“M-Mike…” he breathes. I try to look positive and smile at him, but it falters when I see a tear roll down his cheek slowly.
“Bills, what is it? What do you need?” I ask quickly, worry taking charge of my mind.
Attempting to smile himself, Billie raises his hand to my face, caressing it gently. He’s trying to reassure me, to tell me that he’s fine. I know he’s not though. He has to grit his teeth to stop his tears.
“Billie?” I ask again.
“Mikey…it’s not your fault…d-don’t blame yourself for this, not matter what happens.” He whispers. With his good hand he grips the collar of my shirt and pulls my face close to his. “Promise me.” He says, kissing me deeply. As our lips meet, I taste the salt of his tears which now fall freely.
“But Bills…if I’d been there—“
“Mike. Listen to me.” He cuts me off. “It’s not your fault. They caught me by surprise and beat the shit out of me. I should have been able to defend myself. But I didn’t. It’s not your job to babysit me.” He pauses for a breath here. Now I’m crying as well, holding his hand in mine and not wanting to let go.
“It’s not your fault Tre and Jase showed up at our house shitfaced. I’m not exactly sure why they were there. I was just messin’ with Tre, but Freese obviously didn’t think of it that way.”
“But it’s my fault I wasn’t there to help you!” I say sadly. He closes his eyes again, for a long time. “Bills?” I say, worried.
“Mikey, you have your own life to live. You can’t always be looking after me.” He says quietly. Then he pulls me down again, maybe three centimeters between our faces. “I love you. Don’t forget that.” He whispers with a sad look in his eyes. He gives me another passionate kiss on the lips, a bit longer this time than before. Then he lays his head back on the pillow tiredly, hugging me close to him.
He still has a hold on my hand, and he gives it a squeeze. Another, fresh batch of tears springs to my eyes, trailing down my face an instant later.
“I love you too, Billie Joe.” I say quietly, looking into his eyes again. They seem to have dulled even more, and his breathing is uneven. I try raising my head so that I’m not making it harder for him to breathe, but he shakes his head.
“Just stay, Mikey. I’m not…gonna be here…much longer. I…I want you to…stay with me…” he mutters and now he’s gasping for air.
“Billie!” I exclaim. “Bills, w-what’s going on?” I ask, my voice catching in my throat.
“Kiss me…again, Mike…” he wheezes. He pulls me to his lips once more, and this kiss…it’s so bittersweet…so…final…and I can’t stop the tears that come yet again.
“B-Billie…please…no…” I sob. He raises a shaky hand to pat my head. Then he goes into a coughing fit that rattles the whole bed.
“I-I love you…Mikey…” he gasps, and it’s almost inaudible. Then his hand slips from the top of my head slowly and all the light disappears from his eyes.
I lean on the bed for a moment, shocked. Then I whisper Billie’s name a few times, wanting to think that the inky-haired man is just asleep. But I know he’s not. He’s…he’s gone…
“No…no…” I say over and over again in disbelief. I press the emergency call button and a doctor walks in a few seconds later. He sees me crying, and then how still Billie is. Rushing out of the room, he returns in a minute with another man. Nobody else, just one man. This man slowly comes to stand beside me. He hands a piece of paper to me, an x-ray.
“That’s his ribs. Sir, do you see that?” he points to a spot and I nod. “That’s his lung, and that’s his rib bone.” He points again to a white thing protruding from what he said was the lung. “It pierced his lung, and I’m amazed he even made it this long, with the bone fragments in there.” He finishes quietly.
I just stare at the paper for a minute. So that’s why he was coughing and having such trouble breathing…I think to myself. Then I break down again. The doctors leave me with Billie’s body for the night, knowing that they wouldn’t have been able to drag me away from it quite yet.
I sit there sobbing off and on for the rest of the night, despair the only thing that I can feel, everything else numb and dead like Billie Joe.
He wouldn’t be dying right before my eyes.
We’ve been here for maybe two hours since I found him. He’d been alone and injured for about three before that. We’re in the emergency room, but right now there aren’t any doctors in the room. They’re out getting the result for his x-rays and other tests they ran.
I look down at him again. I hate myself for not being there to protect him. His eyes are closed tightly from the pain; the morphine must not be doing its job. Beads of sweat stand out on his forehead from the effort it must be taking for him to not cry out. His black hair is sticking close to his head, and there’s some in his eyes. I brush it aside gently, and his eyelids part a bit. The green eyes that peer up at me have lost their lively glint and are now dull and seem almost lifeless.
“M-Mike…” he breathes. I try to look positive and smile at him, but it falters when I see a tear roll down his cheek slowly.
“Bills, what is it? What do you need?” I ask quickly, worry taking charge of my mind.
Attempting to smile himself, Billie raises his hand to my face, caressing it gently. He’s trying to reassure me, to tell me that he’s fine. I know he’s not though. He has to grit his teeth to stop his tears.
“Billie?” I ask again.
“Mikey…it’s not your fault…d-don’t blame yourself for this, not matter what happens.” He whispers. With his good hand he grips the collar of my shirt and pulls my face close to his. “Promise me.” He says, kissing me deeply. As our lips meet, I taste the salt of his tears which now fall freely.
“But Bills…if I’d been there—“
“Mike. Listen to me.” He cuts me off. “It’s not your fault. They caught me by surprise and beat the shit out of me. I should have been able to defend myself. But I didn’t. It’s not your job to babysit me.” He pauses for a breath here. Now I’m crying as well, holding his hand in mine and not wanting to let go.
“It’s not your fault Tre and Jase showed up at our house shitfaced. I’m not exactly sure why they were there. I was just messin’ with Tre, but Freese obviously didn’t think of it that way.”
“But it’s my fault I wasn’t there to help you!” I say sadly. He closes his eyes again, for a long time. “Bills?” I say, worried.
“Mikey, you have your own life to live. You can’t always be looking after me.” He says quietly. Then he pulls me down again, maybe three centimeters between our faces. “I love you. Don’t forget that.” He whispers with a sad look in his eyes. He gives me another passionate kiss on the lips, a bit longer this time than before. Then he lays his head back on the pillow tiredly, hugging me close to him.
He still has a hold on my hand, and he gives it a squeeze. Another, fresh batch of tears springs to my eyes, trailing down my face an instant later.
“I love you too, Billie Joe.” I say quietly, looking into his eyes again. They seem to have dulled even more, and his breathing is uneven. I try raising my head so that I’m not making it harder for him to breathe, but he shakes his head.
“Just stay, Mikey. I’m not…gonna be here…much longer. I…I want you to…stay with me…” he mutters and now he’s gasping for air.
“Billie!” I exclaim. “Bills, w-what’s going on?” I ask, my voice catching in my throat.
“Kiss me…again, Mike…” he wheezes. He pulls me to his lips once more, and this kiss…it’s so bittersweet…so…final…and I can’t stop the tears that come yet again.
“B-Billie…please…no…” I sob. He raises a shaky hand to pat my head. Then he goes into a coughing fit that rattles the whole bed.
“I-I love you…Mikey…” he gasps, and it’s almost inaudible. Then his hand slips from the top of my head slowly and all the light disappears from his eyes.
I lean on the bed for a moment, shocked. Then I whisper Billie’s name a few times, wanting to think that the inky-haired man is just asleep. But I know he’s not. He’s…he’s gone…
“No…no…” I say over and over again in disbelief. I press the emergency call button and a doctor walks in a few seconds later. He sees me crying, and then how still Billie is. Rushing out of the room, he returns in a minute with another man. Nobody else, just one man. This man slowly comes to stand beside me. He hands a piece of paper to me, an x-ray.
“That’s his ribs. Sir, do you see that?” he points to a spot and I nod. “That’s his lung, and that’s his rib bone.” He points again to a white thing protruding from what he said was the lung. “It pierced his lung, and I’m amazed he even made it this long, with the bone fragments in there.” He finishes quietly.
I just stare at the paper for a minute. So that’s why he was coughing and having such trouble breathing…I think to myself. Then I break down again. The doctors leave me with Billie’s body for the night, knowing that they wouldn’t have been able to drag me away from it quite yet.
I sit there sobbing off and on for the rest of the night, despair the only thing that I can feel, everything else numb and dead like Billie Joe.