Part 6

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Tw one mention of vomit

One week in

There was no other option except to put him on a wait list, unless we found a donor. Tori was getting screened in 3 days. I couldn't do anything except hope and try to go about my day as usual. I asked all my friends if the could be screened and they all were wrong blood type so it wasn't worth pursuing further screening. One night I'd just cried my eyes out, and Sunil sent Georgia over to see if I was ok, as I wasn't answering his texts and he was at the vet's. (His boyfriends dog had eaten poison-don't ask how, I don't know either-and was crying his eyes out:the dog was fine after a few hours of monitoring and some very expensive vomit) 

Sunil had started to get very worried about me. He bought me an airbed for me and put it in his room. There I spend many nights, but others were in his bed. He held me tight for hours, to soothe my pain. I felt an immense amount of guilt. His boyfriend and I built a friendship. He even went on the airbed to let me into the bed so Sunil could hold me through the night. The Labrador would put her head under my chin and gaze into my eyes, her deep brown eyes fixed with my ocean blue ones. 

My alarm went of. I went over to the chair and threw on some fresh clothes. Today tori was getting screened. If she was a match, then Charlie could come out of his coma. He'd been out into a medically induced coma due to his liver damage. The doctors said he could only come out of it if he had a liver within the next three months. Otherwise he would have to come of life support. 

Sunil drove, me being to anxious to. I looked like I was going to have a  panic attack the whole way there. Then I saw tori, getting out of Michael's car. I breathe a sigh of relief 

'Mate can I come with you?'

'Yea'

'Ok. Let me park the car.' 

I hop out and find tori

'Hey!' 

'Hey.' 

I decide not to say anything else and Sunil comes behind me and grabs my shoulder 

'It's going to be ok.'  He says.

I nod. I know it's going to be ok, so long as Charlie gets a liver. 

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