Baby Don't Cut | Colby Brock

32

Colby's POV

Sam and I sat in the waiting room, the sterile environment doing nothing to calm my nerves. Every time the double doors swung open, our heads shot up in hopeful expectation. Nate and Alex arrived after some time, their presence a small comfort in the midst of the overwhelming anxiety.

Each minute felt like an eternity. The clock on the wall seemed to mock us with its slow, methodical ticking. I kept replaying the last conversation I had with Maya in my mind, the fear in her voice echoing through my thoughts. My hands were shaking, and I could barely sit still, my leg bouncing with nervous energy.

After what felt like an agonizing hour, a doctor walked in and called out my name. My heart raced as I stood up, my friends following close behind. She led us outside the room, and as she turned to face us, I noticed a sour look on her face.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," she started, but those words were enough for me to collapse in the middle of the corridor. The weight of them crashed down on me, and I felt the world slip away.

Sam knelt beside me, putting his arm over my shoulders, silently comforting me. His presence was a lifeline, keeping me grounded in the midst of the overwhelming grief. Nate just stood there in shock, his face pale and his eyes wide with disbelief. Alex tried to comfort me, his voice a distant murmur in the background.

"It's my fault," I thought to myself, the guilt consuming me. "I could have stopped it." The thoughts swirled in my mind, each one more painful than the last. I replayed every moment we had spent together, searching for signs I might have missed, clues that could have told me she was hurting this badly.

Sam looked over at me, his eyes filled with tears. "Hey, it's okay, man. It's fine. It's not your fault," he said, his voice steady despite his own grief.

I was so grateful to have such great friends by my side while I suffered. They were my anchor, my support. But the thought that Maya didn't have that, that we weren't there for her when she needed us the most, tore at my heart. I couldn't shake the image of her in that bathroom, the desperation in her eyes.

"We should have seen the signs," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I should have been there for her."

Sam tightened his grip on my shoulder, his own tears falling freely now. "You did everything you could, Colby. Sometimes... sometimes things happen that we can't control."

Nate finally found his voice, though it was shaky. "Maya knew you loved her. She knew we all cared. She was fighting her own battles, and sometimes... sometimes people just lose that fight."

Alex nodded, his face a mix of sorrow and determination. "We need to remember her for who she was, and honor her memory. She wouldn't want us to blame ourselves."

As we sat there, the reality of the situation sinking in, I knew they were right. But the pain and guilt would take a long time to heal. All I could do now was hold on to the love and support of my friends, and hope that in time, the memories of Maya would bring more comfort than sorrow.

I thought back to the last few weeks, remembering the small moments that now felt so precious. The way she laughed at my jokes, even when they weren't funny. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about her dreams. The way she held my hand when she was scared. These memories were like fragments of light in the darkness, reminding me of the person she was beyond her pain.

The doctor came back, her face softer now, filled with compassion. "If you want to see her, you can. She's in a peaceful state now," she said, giving us the option to say our final goodbyes.

I nodded, unable to speak. The thought of seeing her one last time was both a comfort and a torment. Sam helped me to my feet, and together we walked down the corridor, our steps echoing in the silence.

When we entered the room, I was struck by how peaceful she looked. The pain and fear were gone, replaced by a calm that seemed almost unnatural. I took her hand in mine, feeling the coldness of her skin, and whispered a silent goodbye.

"I love you, Maya," I said, my voice cracking. "I always will."

We stood there for a while, each of us lost in our own thoughts, paying our respects in our own way. The room was filled with a heavy silence, but it was a silence that held our shared grief, our shared memories, and our shared love for Maya.