If You Loved Me, Why'd You Leave Me?

Chapter 3

As a child my parents would take me down to the beach with our old dog, Pepsi, and I'd run along the part where the sea and the sand met whilst giggling with joy and tripping up over myself. I'd run and run and run until I couldn't run anymore and then I'd take a swim in the sea and pretend to play with the fishes circling at my feet. And then, when I got hungry, mum would take me down to the fish and chip shop where I'd eat a whole portion of chips coated in vinegar without any problems. Little did I know back then was that I'd no longer be able to run and run and run until I couldn't run anymore, and that the beach would become a distant memory, along with Pepsi. The poor dog got ran over when I was thirteen years old. I had wanted the day off school. And now, as I lay there staring at the ceiling with sorrow flowing through me, I thought about college, and how if I wasn't sick I'd be there right now, living a normal life with normal friends and most possibly a girlfriend. I'd been told by many people I was good-looking, although I didn't think so myself.

"Dan, honey, I need to go out for two things, but I'll be back soon. Call me if you need anything." Mum told me when she walked in that afternoon. I knew that last sentence meant that if I felt like I was about to die, then I was to call her. But we both knew I'd have no time.

"Sure thing." I replied, dragging my eyes to where she was just leaving. "Love you." I added quickly. Knowing I was about to drop dead any second always put me on the spot, and now I always have to make sure my last words to my parents are 'love you' because it won't feel right. I have to let them know I love them.

"Love you too, Danny." Mum blew a kiss and left, leaving me to go back to staring at the ceiling. My laptop was on my stomach, the novel open, waiting for me to write, but I'd already done my daily writing; I really wasn't in the mood. And that worried me; I was always in the mood for writing, never had I told myself that writing wasn't appealing or fun, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. What was happening to me?

And that's when a pain began to ripple through me and I gasped in shock. My chest felt like it was being squashed in on itself, but my head and everything else was clear. No panic, just pain. I made a sound that sounded much like a dying dolphin before reaching for my phone desperately. I could not move the rest of my body; it hurt too much.

My hand knocked the phone and it fell to the floor, face-down. I stared at it, biting my tongue against the pain in my chest, and attempted to turn myself over but as soon as I moved a thousand daggers stabbed me and I screamed. The pain... it was unbearable, unlike any I had ever felt before. Through the blur of pain and my terror-filled screams a banging sound echoed throughout the house, the sound of someone knocking violently on the door. I noticed my window open and screamed again to try and get their attention. This time the sound of the door slamming open broke through the sound of the blood in my ears and someone was racing upstairs.

"Mum!" I howled, cluching my chest. "Help! Help!" I writhed on my bed, wheezing and spitting and crying and screaming until hands were pulling me up and my phone was being put to someone's ear. I heard them calling for an ambulance, but it was not my mum's voice. It was... someone else's.

"Dan, Dan listen to me! I need you to breathe, okay? Look at me. Look at me!" The voice ordered and I fixed my eyes on bright blue ones whilst their owner cupped my cheek in his hand. I knew him, from two days ago. Hair as black as night, eyes as blue as the sea. How the hell did he know my name?! "Do you remember me? It's me, it's me!"

"Help me!" I pleaded just as sirens sounded outside the window. "My mum - call my mum!" But the boy had jumped to the window and was shouting at the paramedics. Soon two men were in my room, lifting me onto a stretcher. Something was being put on my mouth, helping me to breathe. I couldn't register anything else but my own breathing and the tightening of my chest. Was this it? Was this the end? I had expected it to end quickly, not like this. This was too much. The pain blurred my vision to the point where all I could see were red spots on a grey background. I felt myself close my eyes so all was black and the hands on me felt like unwelcome guests, pulling me to god knows where. I just wished it would end, right now. "Just die just die just die" I choked to myself, probably wasting my breaths but I didn't care. My voice was muffled under the mask so the paramedics probably didn't hear me, which was good as I didn't want anyone to know how I wished death upon myself; I wasn't that type of person. Soon the hands were gone and I was in what I presumed was the ambulance because everything started to shake and a deep numbing spread through me, right over the pain. My brain tingled and my chest heaved, until, finally, hands came and grabbed me, dragging me into their secluded darkness. I hoped it was the end.

***

A white light, right behind my eyes, and then I was awake, gasping for breath that did not come. My eyes shot open to see someone placing a mask on my face so I could breathe. I was in a white hospital room, lying on a big bed with the noise of the heart monitor slowly beeping next to me ear. Glancing at it, I saw how my heart rate had gone from a straight line to a small bump to a lot of tall mountain-like things, signalling the increase in my heart rate. But I didn't care about how well my heart was working, or the fact that I relied on a mask to breathe, or even the fact that my mum was next to me, sobbing into her hands. No, what I cared about was the fact that my eyes were open and I was alive. How had I survived that? I should've died, there and then. But I didn't. And there was no pain.

"Daniel? Daniel, can you hear me? Do something if you can hear me." The nurse who had put the mask on my head was bent over me, her face inches away from mine. She was waving her hand in my face. Very slowly, I nodded. "Very good. Mrs Howell, I have some good news. Your son is alive."

Mum took her head from out of her hands and looked at me with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. I smiled weakly at her, resulting in her jumping up and wrapping me in one massive bear hug. "Oh Danny, my boy, thank every single god out there you're alive!" She kissed my forehead many times before sitting back down and letting the nurse do some tests. I was surprised that I could feel the prick of the needles, but they didn't hurt as much as they used to. Phew!

"As soon as you're breathing normally and stable, you can go home." The nurse told me with a warm smile. A rush of relief flowed through me and I let me head fall back onto the pillow. I was alive. I had more life left still.