I'm Okay ~ Shoey

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

~Shane's POV~

Joey's limp and bloody body lay motionless in my arms as I barged my way into the emergency room. My hands were dripping with his blood, and the tears that rolled down my cheeks were a symbol of the sadness and disappear that tortured us both at this moment.

My body slammed into the double doors with a loud bang, getting the attention of everyone in the room. I was out of breath, but I hadn't even noticed. There were more important things at hand.

"I need help!" I yelled, frightening a small little boy sat with his dad in the waiting area. The receptionist lady came trotting over to us.

"What happened?" She ask, her glasses perched on her nose. As she stepped closer, she saw his shirtless and cold body covered in blood.

"He- he just started- he was puking up blood- I couldn't- I had to- he needs help" I said breathlessly, panic completely surrounding me. I couldn't lose Joey. He can't die. He just can't.

"What's his name?" She asked, still quite calmly. How can she be so calm? He's dying in my arms, can't she see he needs desperate help? I'll pay all the medical expenses myself, he just needs treatment now!

"Joey" I said, tears threatening to spill further. She waved her hand about, signalling to another staff member to bring over a stretcher.

"Shane" a small mumble came from Joey's blood stained lips.

"I'm right here" I tried to say positively.

"Am I going to die?" He said, coughing as he spoke. In all honesty, I wasn't quite sure. He might die. And that's the part I can't tell him.

"Hell no. You just need some medicine and you'll be fine" I smile at him.

"Don't leave me" he said, quieter this time. An eye opened slightly. His usual bright and sparkly green was now dull and lifeless. As if his soul was already detaching itself from his body.

Before I could respond, the stretcher was in front of us, as were two paramedics. They helped lower him onto the white sheets. As his body touched the bed, he yelled out in pain.

"Joey!" I called out, completely struck with panic and fear. Why did he let it get this serious. Why couldn't he have sorted this when it began.

"Joey, just try to relax okay? You're safe here, we'll take good care of you. What hurts?" A nice paramedic asked him. He was kinda old looking. Maybe in his forty's.

"Back" he mumbled out, his eyes shut tight. My mind cast back to the bruise. What does it mean? It's clearly not self harm. Not with the blood vomit now in effect.

They turned him over slightly, revealing the bruise. The paramedic pressed two fingers to it, causing Joey to groan in agonising pain. My heart was pumping so hard in my chest.

"Give him a shot. He needs morphine. Immediately. Then take him to C17" the paramedic said to his team assisting Joey.

Moments later, a needle filled with clear liquid appeared. They gave him a shot in his upper arm, right by the shoulder. Within seconds, Joey was passed out and limp on the stretcher.

As they wheeled him away, I tried to follow. But the reception lady put her arm out to block me. I looked at her desperately. Joey could die in minutes. Why isn't she letting me be with him?

"But" I started, tears welling up in my eyes. He needs me.

"We need you to fill out his details. You can go up when they've finished assessing him" she smiled. It annoyed me how calm she was about the whole thing. But, suppose she's worse over the years.