Consumed

Chapter 21: Milan

"Mom! Dad!" I shout down the stairs, alarmed by Meri's sudden collapse.

Her form is frail in my arms, and she's clearly lost weight since leaving us. Dark circles under her eyes mirror my own, indicating that I'm not the only one who hasn't been sleeping. Her lashes are wet with tears, and her chest is barely rising with each breath.

"Mom! Dad! Come quick!"

They rush up the stairs, worried by my frantic tone. Taking one look at Meri, my father heads for the kitchen phone. My mother checks her pulse, and she looks me over. "What happened?"

"She just showed up on the doorstep. I let her in. She said a few things and collapsed," I whisper, holding her closely and staring down at her pale face in misery.

"She's clearly been through a lot. Let's lay her down in the living room. Your father's calling an ambulance."

I follow my mother into the living room and lay Meri on the sofa gently, cushioning her head with pillows. She's trembling despite her unconscious state, so I cover her with a blanket and sit on the floor beside the sofa. My mother goes to join my father, and I take Meri's hand in mine, laying my head on the sofa. "Come on, Meri. You just came back. You can't leave me now..."

For the next few minutes, I stay beside her, holding her hand and watching her breathe. God, you brought her back to me... I think. Don't take her away again like this.

Sirens wail as the ambulance approaches. They continue to blare for a few moments just outside the door, and then a blast of cold air blows from the entryway into the living room. The paramedics walk in, and for a moment I just sit there in dazed silence. Then I realize what they're going to do.

"No! Stop," I say when they try to take Meri away.

"Look, son," says an elderly paramedic. "We've got to get her to the hospital where they can check her vitals and figure out what's wrong. You'll just get in the way."

"Let me ride in the ambulance with her."

"Are you family?" the man asks gently.

I shake my head miserably, still not relinquishing my grasp on Meri's hand.

"Then I'm afraid we can't let you. But you can follow the ambulance and visit when the doctors say it's okay."

My shoulders droop as they take her away from me. I watch as they put her onto the stretcher and walk out of the house into the swirling snow. Numbly, I follow, standing on the steps as they put her into the ambulance.

Tears fill my eyes when they close the doors on her, climb in, and drive off with the blaring wail of their sirens to herald their passing. I sag against the railing of the porch and slide down it until I'm on my knees in the snow on the porch.

The fluffy snow crunches beneath my weight and begins melting, seeping through my pajama bottoms. Wrapping my arms around myself, I give in to the tidal wave of grief that hits me. Why God? I mentally scream. Why did you give her back just to take her away again?

My father sits down beside me and wraps his arms around me. I turn to him, burying my face in his chest and crying like a little kid. The pain inside is so strong that it sweeps away any shame that this display of emotion might've brought on otherwise. "Why, Dad? Why is God letting this happen?"

My dad stays quiet for a long moment. Then he murmurs, "I don't know, son. He's got his reasons."

It does nothing to make me feel better. When someone you care about is suffering like this, being told that there's a reason never helps. It just makes the questions inside scream louder and clamor for more substantial answers. Unfortunately, there won't be better answers. None of us have them. Only God or Heaven above know what the answers to my questions are. And He doesn't seem too interested in answering me right now.