We'll Come Clean

Carry Me Home Tonight

P.O.V. Nate

            It’s been three days. Three fucking days. It’s felt like months since I’ve talked to Elle. I miss her a lot. I haven’t left her room for more than an hour in the last few days. Nattie, Emily, Noon, Andrew, and Jack have been coming and going. They’re busy rescheduling shows and trying to get in contact with Elle’s mom. It’s impossible because she’s in Europe. They should just stop trying.

            Elle’s room is nice. The walls are a cream color and the floor is tiled grey and blue. It has a window next to her bed. I moved a chair over by her. We’ve all bought her flowers, balloons, and stuffed animals. She can’t see them though. She’s in a coma. This whole time I’ve just been sort of looking. I’ll look at Elle for awhile. I’ll look out the window for awhile. I’ll watch the hallway. I’ll look back at Elle. Sometimes I just sit there and sing. Not loud, but sort of sing a few lyrics to myself. I sing Sight of the Sun the most. That song reminds me of her more than anyone could imagine.

            I’m sort of fed up, no one’s really come to visit for a few hours. I’m kind of bored. Maybe I’ll go get a drink and cry at a bar or some shit. I don’t know if I can just watch her “sleep” anymore. I think it’s killing me inside more than it’s killing her. I don’t want Elle to die. I put my head down for a minute. Then I hear something. Now let me explain how fucking quiet it is in this hospital. There aren’t people shouting and running around with blood samples or anything. All you here are footsteps and the occasional nurse come in to check Elle’s vitals. I look up. There’s no nurse in the room. I look at Elle. At first I don’t see anything. But then I see her finger twitching.

“Holy shit.” I hear myself say aloud. I run over to her bed and look at her. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, grab her hand? That’s the only thing I can think of so that’s what I do. Her grip tightens. I feel a tear roll down my cheek. I need her to wake up. Suddenly she opens her eyes.

“Nothing will ever change,” she whispers barely audibly. She sort of closes her eyes again but I can tell she’s awake.

“Elle, what did you say?” I ask her.

“Nate, I have no idea. Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital. You tried to commit suicide.” I say, choking.

“Oh yeah, that must be why I’m not dead. Why am I still here?” I can’t think of an answer. I couldn’t tell her that she didn’t take just enough pills or that the ambulance got her at the right time.

“I don’t know. I think you’re here still because you’re important to me. I never wanted you to die.”

“Nate Ruess.” She says and pulls me into a hug. I hug her back, I never want to let go. I never want to have to miss this.