Heart

Chapter Thirty-Eight

And I will swallow my pride
You're the one that I love
And im saying goodbye
- A Great Big World & Christina Aguilera

+ D'Angelo +

It's ten o'clock at night. I'm pacing back and forth in the parking lot, my heart racing, and my world crumbling. In two hours. I coughed, the air feeling like it was sucked from my lungs. In two hours she will have been asleep for a year. I leaned my forehead against my car, feeling the tears run down my face.

A year.

I fiddled with the necklace around my neck, the comfort it brings me, undeniable. I turned around slowly, wiping my tears after dropping the necklace around my neck. I locked my car, and walked forward towards the building. I opened the door, putting on my best blank face, and watched everyone get silent. I walked toward the desk, and the receptionist's face went pale.

"How may I help you, sir?" She stuttered out. I clenched my jaw, the smell of lemons and bleach filling my senses.

"Daytona Black." My voice wavered, and she nodded her head quickly.

"One-Twelve." I looked down at the visitor paper that she held. I walked past the desk, ignoring her protests about me signing some stupid paper. I turned the corner quickly, and looked at the room numbers as I walked by them. I felt my body freeze when I looked into a room, and saw her lying there.

112.

I bit my tongue, and grabbed the door handle. I opened the door, and shut it behind me. The sound of beeping immediately rushing into my ears. I turned to face her, and I could feel my heart practically beat out of my chest. She laid there, in a hospital gown, covered in blankets, leaned against pillows while a tube was stuck down her throat. Her eyes were closed, and her skin pale. I walked towards her, pulling a chair with me before sitting it right beside her bed.

"Daytona." I whispered, nervously reaching out and grabbing her hand. I watched the monitor beep, as her heart rate quickened. I pulled her hand to my mouth, kissing it softly.

"I said I wasn't going to come, but it's almost been a year. I couldn't take it anymore. I'm so scared." Her hair fell perfectly down her sides, long as could be still.

"What has life done to us?" I questioned out loud. I pinched my eyes shut, wanting to wake up from this nightmare. Our hands looked connected, the vine of daisies running down her arm tattooed perfectly, as it ran up my arm.

"I can't believe I ever hated you." I chuckled, bringing my hand up to touch her hair. The tips of her golden hair curled perfectly around my fingertips as I twirled it with the hand that wasn't holding onto hers. She is only being kept alive by machines, which I know isn't fully true, but it's what it looks like. I've been slowly losing hope for the past year, that I'm either going to wake up from this nightmare, or she is going to actually wake up.

I haven't gotten lucky with either.

"So much has happened. You need to wake up so you can see it all. You'd hate that the world kept going, even though it wasn't revolving around you." I joked, tears slipping from the corners of my eyes. I paused, closed my eyes, and gave myself a second.

"Why did you do it? Why did you save me? Why did you have to be so selfless and stubborn!" I'm angry, sad, and full of guilt. That's all I am anymore. I'm a walking version of a ticking time bomb. The guilt has been consuming me for months. Every night I watch her get shot in front of my eyes over and over again. I can't sleep in peace, without watching her sacrifice herself for me.

There were dark circles underneath her eyes, along with bags. She was extremely pale, and her lips were a light shade of pink. Burn marks on her hand, and on her arm. I didn't want to know how many more scars she had from being trapped with Juan. I can't handle it, and I know I can't.

"You're not showing any signs of waking up anytime soon, as much as I don't want to say it." I watched as my tears fell onto her hand. I wiped it away with my thumb, wishing she was awake. The emotions that I had for her used to be so full of hate, and now they are the opposite. I don't know how I ever hated her, and I could never hate her, ever again. Even if she tried to kill me, even if she did the worst shit to me ever, I could still never hate her.

"I want you to know that it's okay to let go. I won't be mad at you, nobody will be mad at you. It's okay to get tired of fighting. If you want to let go, it's okay. Do not hold yourself back, Princess. You deserve peace."

I used to always think that talking to her, or seeing her in person would traumatize me, and while it does a little, I find it therapeutic. Seeing her here, knowing that she's still here, even if her mind isn't. Her body is in front of me, but her soul is somewhere traveling through universes.

"I don't want you to stop fighting, but I will understand it if you do." I concluded, and frowned. I didn't want her to be in pain, that's the last thing I could ever imagine or hope for. If she's in pain, I want her to be able to be free. The constant sound of beeping of the heart monitor, the constant breath that the oxygen made, the drop of the IV. I was becoming so in tune with everything going on, with my emotions, and my surroundings. The vases laid on the table next to her, sitting full bouquets of daisies. I swallowed the lump in my throat before standing up.

"Goodbye, Daytona." I whispered, brushing her hair off of her face before kissing her cheek. Her skin was soft as I brushed my lips across it quickly before standing up tall. I let go of her hand, softly laying it back down on the bed. I grabbed a hold of the chair, placing it back where it was before walking out of the hospital room. I looked down at my watch, looking at the time before feeling my heart shatter even more.

A full year.