Just to Live

A few months passed. The hairline fracture on Brian’s jaw recovered. Questions of where Tabitha was dwindled to nothing but small rumors. The air felt and grew much colder. Matthew began to worry incalculably for Tabitha and her family. He wondered helplessly of what would happen to the helpless three.

Although it was illegal, he searched through her letters from the bank, checking her balance. He found that the money in her bank account remained untouched. If they had no money, how would they survive? Sighing, Matthew grabbed a zip-up sweater and decided to walk around the city to make a fruitless effort to find them. He realized he should have tried to find Tabitha a long time ago, but something forced him to remain passive. The feeling was something of fear. He didn’t want to find Tabitha or her mother or sister, only to discover something horrendous occurred to either person. It was a thought too morbid even for him.

Hours later, Matthew found no sign of them. He literally walked around Huntington Beach and its outskirts nonstop, finding no luck in the matter. He was close to giving up for the day until he found a little girl sitting on an old wooden bench, crying. A large piece of cardboard sat next to her. In black lettering, the sign read, “Please donate $. Sister is dying.”

Feeling the urge to cry, Matthew reached into his pocket for six 20-dollar bills and placed it into her cup. The little girl sniffled and looked up from her lap, saying a rather meek, “Thank you,” to him.

“You’re Tabitha’s sister,” Matthew muttered. He was afraid to ask, but did so in a louder voice. “Is she alright?” The sign itself told him of the formidable outcome.

The girl shook her head sadly. “She has a fever, a bad one.”

‘Of course,’ he thought grimly to himself. He was already panicking, unsure of what to do, what to tell Erika if Tabitha wasn’t going to survive.

He had to shut his eyes for several seconds, just to compose himself together. The last thing he wanted to excel in was scaring the poor little girl. “Can you take me to her, Erika?” he asked in a harmless voice.

Erika blinked several times before uncrossing her legs, taking the sign and the cup of money with her. It was peculiar to see a grown man following a young beggar child throughout the streets. Countless passers-by took double takes at the sight.

The walk lasted 20 minutes towards a dark alley. Matthew continued on walking until his own eyes landed on Tabitha and her mother huddled beside the grimy dumpster. Her mother had a tight hold on her daughter, fresh tears running down her face. Tabitha looked so ill, almost on the brink of death. She had her eyes closed, her lips parted slightly open, and she was shivering.

“Baby,” her mother cooed, “Don’t go.”

Matthew knelt down, frowning to the highest degree. Her mother looked at him, a serene expression apparent on her face. “I remember you,” she said. She looked back down at Tabitha. “Tabby did everything for us,” she whispered, choking on her tears and cracking voice. “She loves us so much. Please tell me why I can’t do a thing to save her?”

“Let me take her,” Matthew answered.

It didn’t take long for Matthew to run to the nearest hospital with Tabitha safely in his arms. He had to look over his shoulder every few seconds to be sure that Tabitha’s mother and Erika hadn’t lost his trail.

Upon entering the emergency room, a doctor and nurse rushed to his aid, recognizing who he was.

“Sir is something wrong?” asked the nurse.

“No shit you dumb ass. Do you see the dying girl here?” Matthew spat with such abhorrence that the young nurse gasped and took a step back.

“W-what’s the emergency?” the doctor asked, nose cringing.

Matthew sighed inwardly, developing a slight tingle spreading throughout his right fist — a tingle to punch the doctor in the face.

“She has a fever. Take her and make her better. I’ll fucking pay you more to shut you the fuck up!”

Taking immediate actions, the doctor called for a gurney and carried an unconscious Tabitha to the E.R., leaving behind a worrisome Matthew. Eventually, Erika and her mother caught up with Matthew, out of breath.

“What did they say?” Erika’s mother asked.

“I don’t know yet. They just took her to the E.R.,” Matthew explained.

The three of them walked towards the empty chairs situated against the wall. A long silence ensued, causing Matthew to fret more and more.

“I’m Maria. I never told you my name.”

“What? Oh. I’m Matthew, Matt, whatever you want to call me.”

“Why did you try to find us?” Erika questioned, butting into the conversation.

Matthew stared at the young girl vacantly. “I wanted to make sure you were all okay,” he replied, attempting to give a smile that did not succeed.

Erika nodded her head. “She probably won’t admit it ever, but she’s grateful that you found us. Tabby. She really is.”

‘As long as she survives,’ Matthew told himself.