5:11 AM // Vikklan [Wattys2016]

Prologue

Blaring sirens swarmed the air.

It interrupted the silent, calm airs of the hospital lobby. Nurses and doctors looked horridly at each other, a clicking beginning to sound over the growing tension, and a dismembered voice speaking frantically over the walkie talkie.

"Emergency: Two patients in a severe collusion are being rolled in. Both in critical condition."

All of them scurried to their stations, preparing themselves for the task that was about to be thrown at them.

Not having to wait long, the entrance of the emergency doors swung open and in came a first stretcher. The young soul looked pale, lifeless against the hard surface. Wires hung from the male's arms, and tubes ran out of his nose. His eyes were closed softly, and arms draped against his non-moving chest. His hair was tussled and matted with debris and crimson blood. His skin was littered in scrapes and gashes.

The paramedics hurried to run him through the hallways, securing him in one of the trauma rooms where he would immediately be examined and worked on.

The doors opened a second time. Another stretcher was being rushed inside. There laid yet another young, male who looked just as bad as the first. His skin was darker, and so was his hair. Both shared cuts and bruises of the same variety.

He, too, was quickly rushed into a separate trauma room.

The patients sitting within the waiting room had fear against their faces. Who wouldn't? Any human that goes through such damage is usually mourned by those who never knew them. They will keep them in their heads as someone who could possibly never live again.

Nurses and doctors rushed to each room, dividing themselves equally to have equal treatment to each patient.

As the hours passed agonizingly slow, one male was identified as a male of the age of 20. He had just recently hit his birthday and was Australian. Not that unusual here.

The second male was later identified, hours later, as a male of the age of 22. He was British, from what his license shows.

Doctors were observant as they worked to sew any open cuts, and they kept eyes open for any dip in the heart monitors.

Out of pure bad luck, one flat lined. The British lad. The sound of a long beep filled the air and the doctors who were tending to him hurried to prepare for a defibrillator.

They chanted as multiple times shocking his chest turned lucky, and the lad's monitor began to beep normally. All sighed in relief.

They went back to patching them up.

Hours after hours.

It all seemed to crawl by like slugs stuck with someone's finger pushing against their tail.

So many hours spent with sweat dripping off foreheads and sighs of agitation as they wouldn't get a response of live, besides the monitors.

As morning began to peak over the horizon, as if a miracle, both boys woke up groaning and choking on life's beautiful air.

Doctors noted that at 5:11, early morning, both men were responsive and were promised to live.

Both were promised life when it could have been death instead.