Hope to Die

Skylar’s POV

I close the door gently after bidding Talon good-bye and thanking her for the bike. I leave the bike on the pathway where she left it, still unsure if I should keep it or not. I mean, it’s a pretty swell bike, but it must have cost so much money, and she’s giving it away for free.

Thinking further into it, I walk into the kitchen to get a snack. From the kitchen window, I see that Talon’s brother, Taylor, and his friends Dylan, Cameron, Bryce and Nigel getting out of the car heading into Taylor’s house. Wondering further, guilt takes over me as I feel bad about taking Talon’s bike. I need to take it back.

Finishing my snack, I slip on my shoes quickly and run over to Taylor’s house with Talon’s bike in hand, rolling by my side. I ring the doorbell and stuff my hands in my pocket, waiting for someone to open the door. I hear some laughter inside and some thuds and more noises before someone opens the door.

“Hey, what’s up Sky?” Taylor greets leaning on the side of the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, Dylan behind him.

“Sup man. Look, your sister came by my house earlier and she gave me her bike. I said I’d take it, but it’s too expensive for me to just keep it. I want to give it back,” I explain, pointing my thumb towards the bike I placed behind me.

“She gave you her bike? Did she say why?” Taylor asks, curiously.

“Nah man. She just said she had no use of it anymore. I mean, she has been walking these past few days,” I inform him.

“You know,” Dylan pitches in, “I’ve heard people who give away their things usually have suicidal thoughts and give away things that have no use to them anymore,” he says nonchalantly.

Taylor’s eyes widen. “Shit,” he swears before turning around and running up the stairs taking two at a time.

Dylan and I look at each other worriedly and even the other guys poke their heads in to see Taylor running up shouting Talon’s name. I don’t know why, but I have a gut feeling that something bad is about to happen. Dylan and the rest race upstairs and I follow along with them, not even bothering to close the front door.

Traveling up the stairs, you can hear Talon’s music on full blast, the sound waves bouncing off the walls. Taylor bursts the door open and quickly pulls the cord of the iPod dock, making the music turn off immediately, resulting in an almost eerie feel in the atmosphere as no one makes a sound. Taylor turns his head to the bathroom, hearing the water running inside. He goes over and knocks the door.

“Talon? You in there?” he stands there for a moment, waiting for her to answer, but she never does.

“Talon?” he repeats banging the door this time, repeatedly. Suddenly, it’s as if the tension in the room went to a low minimal to maximum.

“Talon, open the fucking door!” he yells, banging the door perpetually. There is no response from the other side of the door except the running water.

And ever so slowly, after Taylor stops banging on the door, he rotates the door handle, pushing the door open.

And I almost wish he didn’t. Almost.

Taylor yells out her name in horror, and the boys gasp, including me.

There’s blood all over Talon, who is submerged deep into the red water. All I can see is red. Red is dominating the whole atmosphere. The sight, the sound, the smell, the taste. The taste… it’s bitter, even though I didn’t personally swallow it. But the smell is so strong; it’s enabling my taste buds to sense that metallic, salty taste.

Taylor runs over to the tub, now overflowing with red water, spilling on the white tiled floors, lifting Talon out of the tub and cradling her in his arms like a big brother, not caring about all the blood soaking onto his clothes and arms. He’s finally acting like a brother he should have been a long time ago.

It is in that moment when I realize that he was doing everything to seem cool to the other people, not caring about her feelings. Deep down, he cares for and loves his sister. And that side has been dug out today, and hopefully will remain for a long time.

Taylor is sobbing but still demanding his friends to do something at the same time. Dylan is ordered to call the ambulance. Cameron is ordered to get towels and sheets to clot the bleeding. Bryce is ordered to call Taylor’s parents. And Nigel is ordered to stop the water, still running and soaking the floor.

I remain task-less, just looking at the events unfolding in front of me. Her arms are a horrific sight. I’ve never seen that much blood escape from a person before. It drips on the floor as it snakes its way down her arm.

A slight wave of nausea runs through me, finally willing me to turn my head, only to see a note above her desk.

I’m done. I’m through with everything. I hope you’re happy, because you got what you wanted. I’m gone, forever. I made your wish come true… you hoped I would die, and I did.

That note sends shivers down my spine. Just the pure innocence yet devastation of it knocks the breath out of me. I didn’t know she had it this bad. So bad that it had gotten this far. Now, I wish I had done something. Anything… I could have helped her. I could have been her friend and guided her through everything. I could have tried to stand up for her. I could have tried knocking some sense into her brother.

But I realize that I had to get some sense knocked in me, first. I didn’t do anything. I stayed in the background, ignoring the jeers and taunts and pushes she faced everyday while my friends ignored it and remained in our own world, not caring that the next person would be thinking about going through such extents to… gain happiness.

She felt happy when she did it. She felt happy because she would have been getting away from all this… madness. She would have gotten away from abandonment and despair and destitution.

Talon did it because she was on the very edge of losing it… and then she actually fell.

Sirens break me out my thoughts, as well as Taylor’s shrieks and cries to move out of my way. I make room for him to get through, but follow him. The EMT are halfway up the stairs, and they order Taylor to lay her on the stretcher. He does it ever so gently, making sure not to hurt her anymore. The EMT quickly but carefully guide themselves back down the stairs and out the door toward the car.

They enter through the back, putting in the stretcher. Taylor goes in with her, still crying like a little boy who lost his mother at the fair.

His friends are piling into Taylor’s car, stepping on the pedal, racing out of the driveway. Snapping out of my trance I was stuck in, I run home and get my car keys I kept on the table by the front door. Slamming the door behind me, I sprint towards my car and start the ignition, peeling it out my driveway in no time. I tailgate the ambulance and Taylor’s car, all of us speeding twenty miles an hour over the speeding limit.

But no one cares about that right now. The biggest priority is Talon, on the last thread of her life. Only a miracle can save her, judging by the amount of blood she lost, and I just hope she has that miracle.

I speed between cars and in and out of intersections and crossings, keeping up with the ambulance, hoping to get there quickly. I feel as if it takes forever to reach the hospital, yet I reach there in record time; only in ten minutes, when usually it takes twenty to thirty minutes, when you’re not speeding.

Parking my car in the first spot I see, I race towards the entrance and follow the other running boys towards the emergency room. Obviously we are not allowed any further, so we wait by the doors, sitting on the seats, not a word a single word traded.

I hate the familiar white walls of the hospital. The familiar sterile floors and seats and everything. The familiar rolling of wheelchairs and stretchers and carts. I hate everything about the hospital. It wasn’t too long ago when I was here last. I wince and store the memory to the back of my mind.

We wait for quite a while.

Taylor is still crying, though silently, his shoulders shaking as Cameron rubs his back soothingly, trying to comfort him. But nothing works. He continues to cry like a little baby.

The rest of the boys, including me, stare off into space, all of us looking grief-stricken.

I remember when we were little; we would all play together at each other’s houses, including Talon. Talon was a wild fire back then. The smile on her face brightened everyone’s day. The little Talon was so full of life and so much knowledge, even at such a young age. She got along well with the older guys, mainly because she would always understand. She would be the one to entertain our parents at get togethers, enlightening them with her thoughts and ideas, all of them holding so much wisdom, beyond her years.

Her parents were so proud of her. Hell, even my parents were more proud of her than my brothers and me. She was the only one that was allowed at the adult table on Thanksgiving because she understood the basics of what they were talking about, while us other kids would stay at the children’s table, having fun and playing jokes, not having a care in the world about grown-up talk.

We all used to be best friends, but everything changed in middle school. We just… branched off. Associated with other people and had new company. We all forgot about little Talon, still in the fifth grade while we ventured off into the world of middle school. When she entered the sixth grade, it was as if we didn’t know her anymore, stuck with our friends, while she stayed with hers.

I don’t know why I didn’t stay friends with her or the other guys. I just… forgot, really, stuck with my own troubles. And everyone else avoided her, too. Until, her brother and his friends, the same ones that Talon looked up to every day before middle school, began to harass her. I don’t know what triggered it, and at that time I didn’t seem to care.

And I don’t think I ever cared till now.

I realize now how much I miss seeing her smile and her eyes shine bright like the sun. But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to now. I hope I can, to tell her how sorry I am. To tell her if I had the brains to stick by her side, I would have. To tell her to hit me and yell at me for abandoning her. To tell her to ignore me and make my life hell. To tell her that I want to start all over and make more memories and erase all of her bad ones. I want to do it so badly.

I hope I can.

Hours pass by and the wait seems to never end. None of us has moved from their positions, but none of us have the intentions of doing so.

But finally, the doctor comes out.

Taylor and I are the first to rise from our seats, ambushing the doctor.

“Is she alright? Will she make it? How bad is it?” we both rumble, not taking a breath, anxiousness clear in our voice and attitude.

“She is alive.”

With that sentence, it’s as if the weight of the world has been lifted off my shoulders.

“But she is in a coma from the loss of blood she had and an excessive amount of water that entered her lungs. It is not a severe case. She could be up in hours, but no more than a few days.”

Relief rolls through my body, knowing she is fine and I will be able to tell her those things.

With the news, Taylor and I sit back on our seats. Taylor starts crying again, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. But it is also from relief.

I feel something damp hit my hand and I look down to notice a drop of water. Another one drops a moment later. I raise my hand to my cheek and notice the wetness.

Talon Evers has made me cry. After ten years, I’m actually crying.

I don’t hide it though. I let them slide, releasing the stress from today and my previous years.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Talon’s parents arrived yesterday. Talon’s older sister and brother-in-law arrived an hour ago. It was like a tragic family reunion, all of them holding onto each other and crying. None of us knew when Talon was going to wake up.

We didn’t know it was now.

Two days. It took her two days to wake up. None of us left the hospital. Our parents called to find out where we were, but we only gave them the summary of what happens. They told us to give their condolences, but none of that matters right now.

Now we trudge into her room, noticing her adjust her eyes to the bright light of the room. We spread into the room, being as quiet as possible, waiting for her to notice us. And she does a few seconds later.

Tears of hysteria and realization gather into her eyes. Realization that she actually survived.

“No, no, no!” she screams, thrashing onto the bed. “Why did you find me!? I want to die! Get me out of here! Stop it! I want to go! No one cares! Why did you save me!? You could have let me died! I wanted to die!” she yells, kicking her feet, waving her arms, pulling her hair.

We watch her suffer and scream, all of us crying now. The doctor rushes in with the nurse, noticing the accelerated heartbeat. The doctor orders the nurse to hold on tight to one of her arms so he could inject a sleep medicine in her body.

She tries to struggle, screaming to be dead, but she’s too weak. Slowly, she begins to doze off, tears still flowing down her face like a river, muttering how she just wants to die and why we didn’t let her.

In that moment, I realize how broken she truly is.

In that moment, I realize I won’t be leaving her side anytime soon.