Status: Chapters coming...
The Short Life and Tragic Death of Stevie Daniels
Sick
When you wake up dead, like I did, you don’t think you’re alive. You aren’t bamboozled for a moment because no one notices your existence, that you’re standing right in front of them or yelling in their face. You know something is up and you can draw your own conclusions.
When I woke up dead I felt lighter, but not in the sense that I had lost weight, but something else, like something was lifting me up on my feet, not that gravity was pulling me down.
You aren’t dead. I reminded myself. Not yet.
Not yet.
I might as well be. My body was still breathing and its heart still beating so I guess I was technically still alive. But once in a while, as I wandered around this hospital unknown to anyone, I wish they would pull the plug.
But then I see John. Tortured by my bedside, and I want to live. To keep him happy, to take that expression off of his face.
The nurse from before came into the room with a styrofoam cup of coffee. “Here dear.” she said and handed it over to John.
"Thanks." he said, smiling sadly up at her from his chair.
"Oh dear," she sighed patting his shoulder.
"Does it help, to talk to her? Will she even hear me?" he asked
"I’ve been talking to her, and I like to think she can hear me. But even if it doesn’t help her, do it if it helps you." she smiled.
He shook his head “What would I even say.”
"Tell her a story." she smiled and waved before walking back out of the room.
John laughed to himself, which shocked me out of my train of thought. “Remember when you got sick on that first tour we were on together? We weren’t even dating yet?” he sighed.
I do remember. I told him. Not that he heard.
"I was so going to make my move on you that day… until you ran into the venue bathroom and threw up." he chuckled.
~*~Past~*~
This end of tour was sadder than others. As a new band on our first big-ish tour we were so happy to be tagging along and making new friends, getting our music out to new kids, meeting more people. It was sad. And not even the bittersweet I normally felt. I didn’t want to go home in the slightest.
The rest of my band/crew had gone out for food, but I had stayed behind in our green room, fooling around on the guitar.
"Hey." John smiled knocking on the open door.
"Hey, man." I smiled looking up at the tall, lanky man. "Whats up" I put the guitar down.
"I’m bored!" he exclaimed flopping dramatically down on the couch, his head landing on my lap.
"It can’t be too bad, Rockstar." I laughed.
"It isssssss." he moaned and buried his face in my leg. My leg tingled at his proximity and I moved over to give him more of the couch.
"What do you want to do then?"
"Do you wanna watch TV on the bus with me?" he asked me sitting up.
"Hmmmm…." I started to say, pretending I had to put a lot of thought into it. But then my stomach rumbled, and not in the way to tell me I was hungry, in the way to tell me something was wrong.
I narrowly made it to the bathroom, shutting the door hard as I fell to my knees. I tossed up everything I had in my stomach, and more that I didn’t even know was in there.
I hated throwing up, the burning, the taste, the everything. But who liked it anyway?
~*~ The Present ~*~
"The way you were jokingly thinking about hanging out with me… the way you tilted your head and looked off into space. You were smiling though and your dimple was showing." John laughed playing with my fingers. "I just really needed to kiss you, of course I didn’t get to." he sighed.
"I’m kind of glad I didn’t kiss you though. Because our real first kiss is so much better than what that would have been."
I agreed. It really was a first kiss for the history books.
"Hey John." Austin said coming into the room.
"Hey man." he sighed, dropping my limp hand back on the bed.
They didn’t speak for a little while after that, not an awkward silence, but rather a shared sad silence that communicated so much more than words could have.
"What happened?" John whispered after a while.
"We thought it was just a cold, then just the flu… she didn’t want to go to the doctor, just taking cold medicine." he said shaking her head. "Then she couldn’t get out of bed, she stop coming in to record with us and my mom came down from New York, she’s a nurse and came right when I told her." he coughed and covered his mouth for a second. "Stevie didn’t even get up to say hi. She just laid there. Talking about how her chest hurt. The second my mom saw her she told us to run and get the car. That Stevie needed to be at the hospital and not there."
"You said there was water in her lungs?" John asked not looking at Austin or me.
"They drained it." Austin nodded. "And put her on this to help her breathing after the surgery. Every time they try to take her off of it her lungs won’t work and she start to… suffocate."
"I need some fresh air." John said and swiftly moved out of the room.
"This is so fucking hard Stevie. I’m so sorry we didn’t take you to the doctors sooner, so sorry." Austin whispered and then left too.
I’m sorry I didn’t want to do to the doctors. I yelled after him. I’m sorry I’m an idiot. I’m sorry I’m causing all this. I cried.
So sorry.
When I woke up dead I felt lighter, but not in the sense that I had lost weight, but something else, like something was lifting me up on my feet, not that gravity was pulling me down.
You aren’t dead. I reminded myself. Not yet.
Not yet.
I might as well be. My body was still breathing and its heart still beating so I guess I was technically still alive. But once in a while, as I wandered around this hospital unknown to anyone, I wish they would pull the plug.
But then I see John. Tortured by my bedside, and I want to live. To keep him happy, to take that expression off of his face.
The nurse from before came into the room with a styrofoam cup of coffee. “Here dear.” she said and handed it over to John.
"Thanks." he said, smiling sadly up at her from his chair.
"Oh dear," she sighed patting his shoulder.
"Does it help, to talk to her? Will she even hear me?" he asked
"I’ve been talking to her, and I like to think she can hear me. But even if it doesn’t help her, do it if it helps you." she smiled.
He shook his head “What would I even say.”
"Tell her a story." she smiled and waved before walking back out of the room.
John laughed to himself, which shocked me out of my train of thought. “Remember when you got sick on that first tour we were on together? We weren’t even dating yet?” he sighed.
I do remember. I told him. Not that he heard.
"I was so going to make my move on you that day… until you ran into the venue bathroom and threw up." he chuckled.
~*~Past~*~
This end of tour was sadder than others. As a new band on our first big-ish tour we were so happy to be tagging along and making new friends, getting our music out to new kids, meeting more people. It was sad. And not even the bittersweet I normally felt. I didn’t want to go home in the slightest.
The rest of my band/crew had gone out for food, but I had stayed behind in our green room, fooling around on the guitar.
"Hey." John smiled knocking on the open door.
"Hey, man." I smiled looking up at the tall, lanky man. "Whats up" I put the guitar down.
"I’m bored!" he exclaimed flopping dramatically down on the couch, his head landing on my lap.
"It can’t be too bad, Rockstar." I laughed.
"It isssssss." he moaned and buried his face in my leg. My leg tingled at his proximity and I moved over to give him more of the couch.
"What do you want to do then?"
"Do you wanna watch TV on the bus with me?" he asked me sitting up.
"Hmmmm…." I started to say, pretending I had to put a lot of thought into it. But then my stomach rumbled, and not in the way to tell me I was hungry, in the way to tell me something was wrong.
I narrowly made it to the bathroom, shutting the door hard as I fell to my knees. I tossed up everything I had in my stomach, and more that I didn’t even know was in there.
I hated throwing up, the burning, the taste, the everything. But who liked it anyway?
~*~ The Present ~*~
"The way you were jokingly thinking about hanging out with me… the way you tilted your head and looked off into space. You were smiling though and your dimple was showing." John laughed playing with my fingers. "I just really needed to kiss you, of course I didn’t get to." he sighed.
"I’m kind of glad I didn’t kiss you though. Because our real first kiss is so much better than what that would have been."
I agreed. It really was a first kiss for the history books.
"Hey John." Austin said coming into the room.
"Hey man." he sighed, dropping my limp hand back on the bed.
They didn’t speak for a little while after that, not an awkward silence, but rather a shared sad silence that communicated so much more than words could have.
"What happened?" John whispered after a while.
"We thought it was just a cold, then just the flu… she didn’t want to go to the doctor, just taking cold medicine." he said shaking her head. "Then she couldn’t get out of bed, she stop coming in to record with us and my mom came down from New York, she’s a nurse and came right when I told her." he coughed and covered his mouth for a second. "Stevie didn’t even get up to say hi. She just laid there. Talking about how her chest hurt. The second my mom saw her she told us to run and get the car. That Stevie needed to be at the hospital and not there."
"You said there was water in her lungs?" John asked not looking at Austin or me.
"They drained it." Austin nodded. "And put her on this to help her breathing after the surgery. Every time they try to take her off of it her lungs won’t work and she start to… suffocate."
"I need some fresh air." John said and swiftly moved out of the room.
"This is so fucking hard Stevie. I’m so sorry we didn’t take you to the doctors sooner, so sorry." Austin whispered and then left too.
I’m sorry I didn’t want to do to the doctors. I yelled after him. I’m sorry I’m an idiot. I’m sorry I’m causing all this. I cried.
So sorry.