Tragedy

Jon sank on his knees in front of us and ran his hands over his head, and I felt as if I just stopped breathing. I heaved a sigh and wasn’t able to stop myself from asking,

“Where is he? What exactly is happening now?”

I didn’t want to ask Spencer, given by the looks of it that he wasn’t okay as well, but I really wasn’t able to stop myself. Realizing my mistake, I gave him an embrace of comfort instead, not waiting for an answer. An answer he and everyone else didn’t seem to have.

We stayed silent for most of the time like talking would make everything worse, if possible. We stared blankly in space for what seemed like forever. The whole time I was wishing I wasn’t here, that none of this was happening. But there seemed no hope at all.

Then there were sounds coming from downstairs, sounds that broke us from our daydreaming, from our endless hoping. Sounds that told me my previous question would now be answered. My eyes felt dry without even crying. My lips hurt from my own biting. And I felt as if I’d been trying to kill myself by not breathing for the past few minutes, or hours; I didn’t know anymore.

Jon was the first to stand. He didn’t even turn to look at us. He sprinted past us and downstairs, and Spencer quickly followed, leaving me alone as I stared down my feet, wondering if I even wanted an answer, if I even wanted anything at all.

“We would have to bring him back and resume the surgery as soon as he’s stabled. If we resume too soon, it may cause further complications, and if… we start too late then—”

“The right timing, I guess,” Brendon’s mom said, not wanting to hear whatever the doctor would say next. She was standing just in front of the transparent window which separated me from where Brendon lay, endless blue and white tubes running in and over him, his hair hidden in a blue surgical cap and his neck in a thick flesh brace.

I thought knowing the truth and getting an answer already gave the worst feeling in world. Seeing him in a situation like this just killed me.

This would end one day, wouldn’t it? The pain. One day he would be okay, no matter what the doctors said. Because that was the only ending I could think of. But I couldn’t always just hope.

The doctor left and two people dressed in scrubs entered the room. His mom hesitated to follow and just continued staring. She turned to look at me and smiled, her eyes glistening with tears, and I smiled back, knowing it was the only thing we could do for each other. And I knew the both of us silently wished we could do something for Brendon instead of just standing here.

I wished I became a doctor. Then I wished I hadn’t left. I wish Jon and I never left because maybe, just maybe, it would have made a difference.

Then breaking the silence was a long beeping sound. It made his mom rush in and the nurses rush out. And I refused to believe the sound was something I thought it was.