Smoke And Mirrors

•Twenty-One//2•

It's been a week.
I visit every day.
I wrote on my website that I'm still on vacation, considering my wrist and arm— accompanied by my lack of hope, and motivation.

I sit at his bedside once again, watching him for hours. But this time Tasha calls.

"Hi Tasha."

"Hey girl, how you hold'n up?" She asks, trying to sound happy, trying to give me some sort of positivity.

"Good...I don't know, okay?"

"Shitty? Got it."

"I didn't say that." I cross my legs, the top of my foot tucked under the hospital bed.

"But you meant it. Where are you right now?"

"Hospital, visiting."

I hear a sigh come from the speaker of my phone, "You can't just sit in that depressing place 24 hours a day, seven days a week."

"It's not 24 hours, more like- ten to fifteen."

"That's still a lot for everyday, he's alive isn't he?"
Her asking that really makes me think...

no...well yes.
technically—
but no.
If he were living he would be skinny dipping in a public lake or something.

"Yeah he's okay, heeling well the doctors say."

"That's wonderful, you updating the parents?"

"I call everyone, everyday, to tell them what happens and send them a picture if they want one."

"Morbid...why a picture."

"They want to see him, but they don't have the money to fly out here and take off work."

"Do you want me to bring you cookies or something? Maybe chill out a bit? Drag you out of that hospital?"

"I'd rather you not, I like being alone—right now at least, thanks though."

"Had to ask. Well I'll keep you too your Jake watching, see ya'." She gave up on trying.

"Bye." I hang up briefly and set the phone in the side table. I look at his sleeping body—sighing—as imagine what his response would be.

"Don't judge me—I didn't feel like talking. You wouldn't either, if I was in a coma," I cross my arms, "I can't even image what you'd be like if I was in a coma...would you care?
That's an odd question to ask, my apologies. I'll shut up now."

I would say there was an eerie silence, but it was broken every second by a horrid beeping sound that wasn't quiet—but loud enough to annoy the hell out of you.
Slowly, I touch Jake's arm, his warm, soft skin underneath my fingertips felt nice. I never wanted to touch him more than right now, feel his presence, his body, his soul one might say. Just to feel he is still with me and here in this present moment.

That's the hardest part of it all..I can't even tell if he is.