Collide

Prologue | .Riley.

If everyone was given one chance in their life to pause time, I would use mine now.

I need everything to come to a halt.

The chatter. The birds tweeting outside. The babies crying. The patient in the room opposite mine severely coughing. The rush of footsteps. The blowing of the wind. The ticking clock on the wall. The people walking around in ocean blue gowns with masks covering the lower half of their faces.

It was loud.

Yet underneath all of that, there was no sound at all. It was dead silent. I couldn't hear anything as small as a whimper and my heart plummets to my stomach.

My ears were searching for the minimal shriek amongst the aggressive crowd.

But I couldn't hear it.

My hand was searching for the only palm I needed to hold right now.

But I couldn't find it.

My eyes were searching for the tears threatening to fall from her damp, weary blue pupils as her melanocytes responded to the light.

But I couldn't see it.

She was facing away from me. She was held in the nurse's arms as she rushed both of them out of the room. She shouts several things but every word sounded nothing but foreign to me.

I couldn't even interpret English right now.

The others follow after them one at a time and I'm left in the room alone.

Alone.

The last place I want to be. Not alone physically but alone mentally and emotionally.

There was one other dark-haired male in here with me but he couldn't help. No number of smiles or gentle arm-rubs will make me feel any more optimistic. No amount of reassuring phrases will lift my hopes up when all my hopes have already crumbled.

My eyes wonder down the corridors, following the blonde as she fast-paced into another room with her in her arms.

They disappear around a corner and not only can I no longer see her eyes, but I can no longer see a single limb attached to her body. Not even a toe.

She's nowhere in sight.

And somehow I feel even more alone than I did five seconds ago.

The door slams shut from the breeze of the wind and I feel the desperate need to roar along with the air. To shout. To scream. To vent out every ounce of frustration within me.

The hairs on my arms stick up. I don't know if it's from the cold or an overwhelming sense of fear.

I want him here. Right here, right now. Seated on the edge of this bed with the soft touch of the surface of his hand brushing lightly over the skin of my thighs where the hem of my own sky shaded gown rested above it.

I want him. His body, his touch, his frame, his husky tone of voice, the cotton of his navy colored sweater he must wash every other weekend.

I want his heart back because I let it go. Stolen hearts are meant to be kept but I only ever borrowed his. He has mine locked up inside his chest beneath the exterior representation of his muscled abs and hairy-chested torso.

They say a push and pull force is supposed to attract but what if this time the push overtakes the pull?

My eyes remain on the glass door in front of me, waiting for them to come back. For them to return with the sound of wailing. The sight of tangled limbs yearning for my touch. The feeling of fresh skin nearing close against my body.