Finding Jaime

Chapter 43

"Jaime? What are you doing here?"

I looked up and saw Mom. She looked different. Younger than I remember her looking. And healthy.

"Mom!" I tried to go hug her. She stepped away from me. I stopped, confused.

"You shouldn't be here, Jaime. Why are you here? What happened?"

"I can't live with Dad," I said, tears in my eyes. "I don't fit in. His first wife hates me. I think he hates me, too.  He grounded me!"

"What did you do?" She asked.

"Nothing!  I was just hanging out with Frank and Justin and Emanuel."

"Stealing hubcaps again?" She frowned.

"No! I wasn't!"

"So you were the lookout?" She asked.

"What does it matter?  I miss you. Why did you have to die?"

"It was my time. It's not yours. Why are you here? What happened?"

"I miss you so much," i said. "I can't live without you."

"Jaime," Mom said. "What did you do?"

"I couldn't handle it anymore. I couldn't handle you not being here anymore. I couldn't handle the kids at school treating me different because of Dad. I couldn't handle Dad being mad at me and Ashlee hating me."

"What did you do?" Mom insisted again.

I started crying.

"I took some sleeping pills," I sobbed. "I took a lot of them. To come be with you."

"Jaime!" She said. "You shouldn't have done that."

"I miss you so much! I want to be with you."

"You can't. You can't stay here, Jaime. It's not your time. You have to go back."

"I don't want to!" I insisted. "Please don't make me. Please let me stay with you."

"First, that's not even my decision. And second, Jaime, you're too young. It's too soon."

"I don't want to leave. You can't make me."

"No. I can't. But again, it's not in my hands. Jaime, you're only 15! Why would you want to end your life?"

"Because I miss you so much. Because Dad hates me."

"Your dad doesn't hate you, Jaime. Why would you think that?"

"He hasn't spoken to me other than to yell at me since he picked me up from the police station."

"The police station?! Jaime!"

"What? You're not here anymore. You don't get a say!"

She looked at me. That's all. She just looked at me. Then she shook her head.

"Jaime, you can't be here," she said, and then turned around and walked away.

"Mom!" I called out. "Mom! Come back! Take me with you!"

"I can't, Jaime. You have to go back. You have to find your way back."

I tried to follow Mom but it was like there was a glass wall. Or an electric fence? Something made me feel like I'd been electrocuted and punched in the chest at the same time.

I looked around. Every time I tried to move it was like I was in a cage. I'd hit a wall of some sort no matter which way I moved.

I was stuck. Mom said I needed to find my way out, but how?

Pete POV

The paramedic in the back with Jaime started CPR. Everything went over my head. I didn't know what was happening.

The paramedics stopped the ambulance and the driver came around to help the one in the back. They put a tube down Jaime's throat and pulled out an AED to restart his heart. My son was technically dead.

Tears flowed out of my eyes unbidden and unfelt. I couldn't fix this. I couldn't save him. And I couldn't help think this was my fault. I'd driven him to this.

They made me let go of his hand while they tried to save his life. I watched his body jolt as the AED shocked his heart.

I put my head in my hands and cried as I realized what I'd done.

"Jaime, I'm so sorry," I cried. I didn't notice the slow beeping at first. Then I realized Jaime's heart was beating again. But Jaime was still unconscious. And not breathing on his own. The paramedic was using a rescue bag attached to the tube in his mouth.

The driver jumped back into his seat and sped off to the hospital. I didn't stop crying the whole way, apologizing to my son and willing him to get better.

When the ambulance pulled up to the hospital and the paramedics jumped out and rushed Jaime in, I was held back. He'd need to be assessed and as a trauma, and a possible suicide, there's no room in the trauma room for a weeping parent.

I sat heavily in a chair in the waiting room. The paramedics were relaying information as they pushed through the doors into the treatment area.

I put my head in my hands and I began to cry again. I was going to lose my son. And it was my own fault.