How to Save a Life

Part 9- Waiting For My Sun To Shine
We spend the night in the hopsital. I sit on y/n’s bed, holding her hand, while everyone else crowds together on the couch and the floor. Most are crashed by 2 AM.

I don’t sleep.

Instead, I stay up thinking and remembering. I go over every moment we spent together. Every time she smiled at me, every time her beauty made my heart catch in my chest, every time I played her favorite songs onstage and watched her smile at me and thought, This one’s for you. I think about all those nights when I couldn’t sleep for worrying, when I would have to check her bunk just to remind myself that she was safe and sound. The nights when I wanted so badly to be there beside her, pressed up against her, stealing the breathe from the edge of her lips.

Like I do now.

But I’ll never get that chance.

Morning comes, and Matt and Jeff leave to get food for everyone.

Hospital calls her family. No answer.

The day passes.

Then the night.

The next morning.

Still haven’t slept.

Haven’t left her side.

She hasn’t woken up.

Finally, Jack, who has been in and out like the rest of the guys, comes over to me.

“Alex, you’ve got to sleep. You’ve got to eat. You can’t stay here forever,” he tells me gently, putting his hand on my shoulder.

“If she wakes up,” I say tightly, “I have to be the first one she sees.”

“We’ve already cancelled the show for tonight,” he continues, ignoring me. “And obviously, we missed the one yesterday. But tomorrow, it’s the Baltimore show. It’s our hometown, and Flyzik says we aren’t canceling it. Today you can stay with her, but tonight we gotta leave. She’ll be here, in the bast possible hands, and they’ll call us right away if anything changes. There’s nothing more you can do for her, Alex.”

“No,” I say bluntly. “We can’t leave. We have to stay. I promised I would never let her go, Jack. I promised.”

He sighs. “It’s just of a day, Alex. Then we’ll take it from there. For now, go back to the bus, shower, eat something, take a nap. She’ll be fine while you’re gone, I’ll stay with her.”

Recognizing defeat and my own exhaustion, I slowly rise from the bed. I leave the room, leave the hospital, go back to the bus. I showed, I eat, I sleep for a few hours. Then, as I am about to leave the bus again, I notice my laptop. It’s sitting on the floor, right by the bleach stains that have replaced the bloodstains. It’s dead, so I plug it in, and when the screen flickers to life I see y/n’s tumblr inbox.

This is what she was looking at.

I begin to read the messages. Horror, shock, disgust fill me as I see the words that made y/n break. It hurts, but I read every single one of those anonymous, hate-filled notes. Then, when I am done, when I feel ready to explode, I pick up the laptop, carry it outside, and throw it to the ground. I do it again. And again. The screen is smashed, the keys are falling off. I stomp on it, beat it, until the screen is cracked and black and I can see no more of those deadly words.

That night, I say goodbye to y/n, kissing her on the cheek and lingering in the room just a little longer than I should, waiting for her to open her eyes. She doesn’t.

We drive all night and much of the next day, en route to my hometown. When we finally arrive at the venue, I mechanically go through the motions of set up and sound check. I sign autographs and I fake a smile. There is no meet and greet.

We go onstage. I sing, but even to myself I don’t sound good. I try, though, I really do, and I am just getting into the preformance, just feeling like myself again when it is time to play Therapy.

Oh, God, I don’t know if I can do this.

The fans are expecting a speech, but instead, I launch right into the song.

“My ship went down in a sea of sound.
When I woke up alone, I had everything.”

I can see her standing on the edge of that bridge, arms outstretched, ready to fly.

“A handful of moments I wish I could change,
And a tongue like a nightmare that cut like a blade.

Her weight on to of me as we crash to the pavement, the look on her face when she realizes she is still alive.

The song continues, and so do the memories.

Her face. Her smile. Her laugh. Her everything.

Her favorite song.

Arrogant boy, cause a scene like you’re supposed to,
They’ll fall asleep without you,
You’re lucky if your memory remains.”

The last line is barely audible, and then emotions swells my throat shut and I cannot continue.

I manage to whisper “Just a sec” into the mic, and then I run offstage, Jack hot on my heels.

Once out of sight, I slump down to the floor against a wall. I bury my face in my hands, and let the tears come.

Jack sits down next to me.

“Hey,” he says, alarmed. “Hey, hey, Alex, it’s ok. It’s ok.”

“That’s her favorite song, Jack,” I choke out. “It’s her favorite song. And she should be here to hear it. But she isn’t, and it’s not ok. It will never be ok again."