Walking through the hospital door brings it all back; the sirens, the confusion, my parents and my aunt frantic and crying, and those awful words...
"I'm so sorry, but..."
You're not really sorry. You're not sorry that my twelve year old cousin is dead. You're not sorry that my family is going to have to go through months, perhaps even years of grief. You're just sorry that it's you who has to tell us. I never, ever want to hear those words again. Especially not now.
There's a notice board by the entrance, and on it is one solitary notice. A notice advertising the audition that Darcy and I went to a few weeks ago, where I got a place in the final audition and she didn't.
In a sudden rush of anger, I rip the advert off the board and tear it into tiny pieces. I don't care about a stupid audition. No one in this godforsaken place cares about a stupid audition. I can't believe I ever cared about such a stupid, stupid audition.
A stupid audition that might have killed my best friend.
Eventually I calm down and follow a smiling nurse to the room where Darcy is. How can she smile when she's surrounded by death and disease? Hospitals seem so hopeless to me. No one I've known who's been a patient in a hospital has ever come out alive.
Please let things be different this time.
YOU ARE READING
Unreachable
General FictionWhen you go to sleep, what happens if you don't wake up? It doesn't always mean you're dead, but it feels like it does. Friends and Family Anthology Part 4.
