Tragedy
Fifth Chapter.
Everything went from a panic situation to what seemed like a slow motion movie scene. I felt my legs about to give up as I rushed into the room, contemplating whether I should go in or find a doctor. My legs decided to go in, before eventually giving out once I reached his bed.
I reached for his hand and held it between mine.
“Oh shit, oh shit,” I mumbled, shaking his hand lightly, as I heard his mom begging him to stay.
The long beeping sound was deafening and could be heard amidst Pete’s and Jon’s yelling as they rushed in from nowhere. They were yelling what’s taking the nurses so long. They were yelling why no doctor seemed to be coming.
Why wasn’t there any doctor coming?
-
-
“Ryan, hey Ryan.”
I heard Pete mumble. My eyes felt dry and they hurt as if I just rested them against someone’s fist. I opened my eyes and raised my head, realizing I did rest them against a fist, my fist. Remembering what happened, I stared at Pete, who was already walking toward the staircase. Spencer and Jon were about to follow him. We were back to where we—Spencer and Jon—were sitting a while back.
Spencer looked back at me. “I fell asleep, didn’t I?” I asked, he nodded.
I heaved a sigh, relieved it was a dream, secretly wishing that it was a nightmare inside another nightmare. But no, this time it felt real.
When we went down the doctor was with his mom, and they were walking away from us, eventually turning out of sight.
“Doctor says B-den’s stable, as of now, although he wasn’t a while back. What’s important is he’s okay now. He’ll need transplants though, soon—” Kara bit her lip and her eyes focused on me. I didn’t take my eyes off her. Then her eyes soon glistened with tears. “He’s in a coma though, and if he doesn’t get the transplant soon he might not make it.”
Almost everyone bowed their heads at the same time. I didn’t. I felt paralyzed at the moment. I saw Jon take out his earphones from his pockets, inserted one end into his iPod, and put them in his ears. I almost thought he was inconsiderate, but before he turned his back against us I saw something I neither saw before nor expected to see anytime soon.
His face turned red, his eyes filled with anger, and tears were flowing fast from them. He walked, and then ran away from us.
One of my friends just ran away alone, completely shutting his senses from the world and completely lost in thought, drowning himself in music coming from his iPod, running to nowhere in a place far away from his home. One was still traumatized physically and emotionally. And one’s lying unconscious succumbing to the extent of his injuries, machines breathing for him, machines keeping him alive. And I’m here, helpless, pathetic, incapable of helping any of them, and I couldn’t even move. I couldn’t even stay strong for myself.
I almost felt as awful as thinking jumping off a building or overdosing on pills would be the best thing to do for myself. But no, even if wanted to do any of those for myself it would make matters worse for my friends and I couldn’t stand that.
That’s when I realized all I ever live for now is them—Jon, Spencer, and Brendon.
I reached for his hand and held it between mine.
“Oh shit, oh shit,” I mumbled, shaking his hand lightly, as I heard his mom begging him to stay.
The long beeping sound was deafening and could be heard amidst Pete’s and Jon’s yelling as they rushed in from nowhere. They were yelling what’s taking the nurses so long. They were yelling why no doctor seemed to be coming.
Why wasn’t there any doctor coming?
-
-
“Ryan, hey Ryan.”
I heard Pete mumble. My eyes felt dry and they hurt as if I just rested them against someone’s fist. I opened my eyes and raised my head, realizing I did rest them against a fist, my fist. Remembering what happened, I stared at Pete, who was already walking toward the staircase. Spencer and Jon were about to follow him. We were back to where we—Spencer and Jon—were sitting a while back.
Spencer looked back at me. “I fell asleep, didn’t I?” I asked, he nodded.
I heaved a sigh, relieved it was a dream, secretly wishing that it was a nightmare inside another nightmare. But no, this time it felt real.
When we went down the doctor was with his mom, and they were walking away from us, eventually turning out of sight.
“Doctor says B-den’s stable, as of now, although he wasn’t a while back. What’s important is he’s okay now. He’ll need transplants though, soon—” Kara bit her lip and her eyes focused on me. I didn’t take my eyes off her. Then her eyes soon glistened with tears. “He’s in a coma though, and if he doesn’t get the transplant soon he might not make it.”
Almost everyone bowed their heads at the same time. I didn’t. I felt paralyzed at the moment. I saw Jon take out his earphones from his pockets, inserted one end into his iPod, and put them in his ears. I almost thought he was inconsiderate, but before he turned his back against us I saw something I neither saw before nor expected to see anytime soon.
His face turned red, his eyes filled with anger, and tears were flowing fast from them. He walked, and then ran away from us.
One of my friends just ran away alone, completely shutting his senses from the world and completely lost in thought, drowning himself in music coming from his iPod, running to nowhere in a place far away from his home. One was still traumatized physically and emotionally. And one’s lying unconscious succumbing to the extent of his injuries, machines breathing for him, machines keeping him alive. And I’m here, helpless, pathetic, incapable of helping any of them, and I couldn’t even move. I couldn’t even stay strong for myself.
I almost felt as awful as thinking jumping off a building or overdosing on pills would be the best thing to do for myself. But no, even if wanted to do any of those for myself it would make matters worse for my friends and I couldn’t stand that.
That’s when I realized all I ever live for now is them—Jon, Spencer, and Brendon.