Perfect Places

"911, What's Your Emergency?"

With shaky hands, I ran behind the receptionist's desk and picked up the phone. I quickly dialed 911. I tried to control my breathing and my nerves. Zane leaned against the desk and pushed his head into his hands.

I fiddled with the cord on the phone out of nervousness and watched as complete chaos erupted in the hallway to our right. Doctors, nurses, and even some patients rushed into the bathroom just to see Nick, dead, lying on the floor.

Pathetic. It was pathetic. The worst part was that no one was doing anything about it. They were just standing there, gawking.

"911, what's your emergency?" A woman on the other end of the line asked.

"Hi, um ... I don't know how to say this ... but the body of a 19-year-old male was found in the bathroom stall of the local hospital," I said into the phone.

"Oh-" The woman said, "That's horrible. I'll send a few officers right away. Thank you."

"Ok, thank you," I replied.

I hung up the phone before she could, and turned to Zane. He looked back at me but didn't say anything. It was then that I noticed a thin glossy layer forming around his eyes.

"Zane, I'm so sorry," I said.

He sniffled, "It's okay, really ... it's fine. Everything's fine."

Denial. He was in denial.

Losing a friend is one of the most difficult challenges to overcome. Even though I wasn't as close to Nick as Zane was, I still knew how it felt. I knew exactly how it felt. People had come and gone in my life before, and it had really taken a toll on me. When someone you love disappears entirely ... it feels terrible. It feels like being stabbed and being left with a massive, gaping hole in your heart. Everything you went through, everything you worked for is then ripped out of you for no reason at all, without your consent.

Who is going to be there for you when you need someone to talk to? Who is going to be there for you to binge-watch your favorite shows with you? Who is going to be there for you when you need someone to laugh at your stupid jokes? Who is going to be there for you when you need someone to save you a seat at lunch? Who is going to be there for you when you need someone to give you advice?

Who is going to be there for you when you need someone to cry with?

Friendship is something that's hard to put into words. But losing one is even harder. Whether it's because of them simply ignoring you ... moving away ... or possibly even death ... it still hurts. It's insanely painful. A friend can't simply be replaced. It's not that easy.

"No-" I took his hand, "No it's not."

A tear dripped down his face, and he got all red. I could almost physically feel his pain.

He simply shook his head no, hinting at the fact that his throat was tightening up. His blinking became faster. Without telling him, I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a huge hug. This was going to be a hard loss for him.

Zane rested his head on my shoulder and tightened his arms around me.

"Babe," I said mid-hug, "Remember the time on the hill when you told me things will get better?"

I was quoting the time when Zane really inspired me. I was quoting the time when I realized that I truly loved Zane.

"Yeah, how could I forget?" He replied.

"Do you still believe that?"

Zane didn't respond for a moment, "Yeah ... yeah I think so."

I looked up at him, "Good. So do I."

He wiped away his tears and took a few deep breaths. I ran my fingers through his hair and slid him a sly smile.

"I love you so much, Carnaby." He told me, resting his hand on the side of my face.

I blushed, "I love you more, Lennons."

All of the screaming and yelling seemed to faze out as I looked into his eyes. He kissed me without any hesitation, and I let myself be free for just one moment.

And for just a second, everything was perfect. Everything was just fine.

But then the thoughts and feelings all came back. That's when it hit me ... I should call my "parents". Then, we could have a shot of escaping Connor.

I backed away from Zane and looked up at him.

"I should call Cecelia and Jim," I said frantically, picking up the phone again.

"Cecelia and Jim? Who are they?" Zane wondered, watching me.

"My ... parents," I responded, trying to remember their number.

I typed in the numbers one by one, praying they were right.

"Oh yeah ... that's probably a good idea." Zane chuckled.

I held the phone up to my ear and listened as it rang a few times.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up ..." I murmured to myself.

If neither of them picked up the phone, I didn't know what we would do.

"Hello?" I heard Cecelia with her high pitched voice ask, confused.

"Cecelia," I said quickly, "Thank you so much for picking up-"

"Rae? RAE?" She interrupted, "Where are you, sweetie? Why haven't you come home yet? Where are you?"

"Uh-" I looked at Zane, "I'm at the hospital. I'll explain later, okay?"

"The hospital? Honey, what in the world are you doing there?" She asked frantically.

"I said I'll explain later ... can you please just come and pick me up?" I said, avoiding her questions.

Zane played with a strand of my hair as I talked on the phone. The people in the hallway to our right were getting louder by the second, and more and more chaos started errupting all around us. It was getting hard to hear Cecelia.

"Yeah- yeah. I'll come to get you. You have a lot of explaining to do young lady." Cece told me, sounding serious.

"Okay, thank you," I replied nervously.

I had gotten my first young lady of the night. I hated it.

Cece hung up first, which was good. That meant that she was serious about coming and picking me up.

"She's coming," I informed Zane, "Cecelia should be here any minute."

"Alright." Zane said, "So that's it? It's just over that easy?"

"I wouldn't get your hopes up." I answered, "I'm ready for anything to go wrong at this point."

We made our way over to a couple of waiting room chairs and just sat there. We just sat there in shock. We sat there in worry. We sat there in anxiousness. We sat there in sadness. We sat there in ... pity.

Pity that something couldn't be done faster. Something could have been done to save Nick's life, we both knew that. That sentence kept repeating over, and over, and over again in my mind. It was like a song being stuck in my head.

That single sentence was tatooed on my brain, and I couldnt get it off. Something could have been done to save Nick's life. Or at least made it last a little longer.

For some odd reason, I felt as if I was reponsible for his murder. That didn't feel good.

Not at all.