Survivin' - [B.C.]

Chapter 20: Break the News

Something moved within me for me to speak. I thought the words. I felt them. But did I say them?

I love you, Chloe Fitzgerald.

========= SURVIVIN' =========

She was dead by morning.

When the sunlight poured into the room, reaching over me, I opened my sleep-burdened eyes and took in my immediate surroundings.

The room was golden, shimmering beneath the sun's early December rays. Shadows were barely casted by the table and the recliner by the window. Birds occasionally flew past the glass and cut across the London skyline. The beautiful, magical London skyline...

It occurred to me that I wasn't in my room. Cue a brief moment of panic. Then the realization that I was in Chloe's room.

The thought hadn't pressed on me when I first woke up. It was really just bliss. And awestruck. I'd slept so well, unplagued by nightmares or any haunting thoughts. The outside world was very beautiful even as everyone was still waking up. Did mother nature ever sleep?

I stretched and let out a lengthy yawn. A peaceful smile briefly graced my face. I had woken up in a bed with someone I really loved. She was right next to me, just waiting to become aware of all the natural magnificence that I was witnessing.

When I sat up, swinging my legs onto the floor, my grippy socks suddenly clung onto my feet. They were wrapped in a wet and cold matter. I looked down and saw a quite large puddle of water on the white tiles beneath me. A giant 32 oz. hospital mug lied in the middle of it, it's blue lid scattered halfway across the floor. And near the wall by the window, my keyboard lay overturned, a few chips of the black plastic surrounding it like some sort of magic ritual circle. The offering to the piano gods.

I turned back over and went to wake up Chloe. Normally, I wouldn't do that. But today I wanted her awake and aware by my side the whole day.

"Chloe..." I said in a sing-song voice, gently shaking her by her shoulder... She didn't stir. Her eyes didn't twitch or flutter.

"Chloe?" I patted her cheek. Still no reaction. My stomach started to tighten. I felt sick.

"Chloe!" I shook her again, this time harder. There was still no response to my efforts.

I started hyperventilating and my brain was fogged with panic. I wasn't thinking straight, and I even knew that at the time. I paced around for a minute, at first thinking that maybe she was just sleeping very deeply. But in all the times I've stayed overnight in Chloe's room, I'd never had to wake her up, much less yell at her to do so.

I thought I heard her hum and my head snapped to look at her. But no, her state hadn't changed, and the only thing making noise in the room was the aircon.

I finally got a clear idea of what to do, and so I rushed over to the bed and put two fingers underneath her jaw. No pulse.

I checked the side of her neck. No pulse.

I checked the spot where her chest met her throat. No pulse.

I checked her chest. No pulse.

I checked her wrist. No pulse.

For whatever reason that I still can't understand, I didn't feel anything. Nothing but a sense of urgency and a rush of adrenaline. I just calmly exited the room, my entire body feeling like it was made of ten thousand vibrating pixels.

I found a nurse walking through the hallway and I stopped in front of her. She slowed her walk. I couldn't look her in the eye, couldn't barely speak until I finally breathed in enough oxygen.