I couldn't move. I felt my whole body stiffen, the chest falling rapidly towards me. I screamed, a blood curdling scream that rattled the windows in their panes.
Bertie's voice was muffled from outside. "Hetty! Hang on, Beautiful!" I heard his footsteps start down the corridor, running. The chest was still moving towards me.
He wasn't helping at all! He had ran off!
Then, I heard a knocking at my window. I turned my head - still paralysed. The window was open a bit, and Bertie was trying to pull it open so he could get in. When it was wide enough, he slipped through and stepped in front of me, pushing me out of the way.
"Bertie!" I shouted as he collapsed underneath the drawers.
He was not moving, I didn't even know if he was breathing or not. "Help!" I shouted repeatedly, darting out of the door and thundering on the walls and doors, lighting all the rooms, screaming at the top of my lungs.
Soon, everyone in the girls wing was awake.
Matron Bottomly came steaming towards me. "Hetty Feather!" she exploded. "What are you doing, waking the children at this hour!"
"Please, Matron, my friend Bertie is stuck under a chest of drawers, not moving!"
She rushed to my room and found the un-moving butchers boy. "I need some help!" she hollered.
Soon, twenty children and two nurses were crowding around the unconscious fifteen-year-old and trying to remove the drawers. When it had finally been heaved off of him, I shouted, "Get him to the infirmary!"
I followed as they carried him to the infirmary, clasping his rough hand in my soft one. They laid him on one of the beds, and then left. I pulled the blanket over him, making sure he was comfortable, fluffing up his pillows, straightening the covers.
I talked to him, I stroked his hair, I held his cold hand.
I spent days sat in that hard chair, waiting for him to sit up. To open his eyes. To say something. To squeeze my hand back.
Children and Nurses came and went. There were bunches of flowers, chocolates and little toys the children had sewn for him.
"Hetty?" I widened my eyes, looking down at Bertie. But his eyes stayed shut.
"Don't you think it's time to leave now, Hetty?" It was Matron Bottomly.
"No!" I shouted, laying on Bertie's chest and lacing my arms round his neck. "I'm not going to leave without him!" I held in my tears.
She sighed and I heard her feet slapping the floor as she left the room.
I cried into Bertie's chest, holding him tight.
Then I felt two hands on my back.
"Bertie?" I opened my watery eyes. No, he wasn't awake!
So who was holding me?
