I'd Live For You, If Only I Could (Completed)

Fifteen

I crack open my eyes to see the hallway rushing past me and someone - Scott? - running along at my side. There is something beneath me, and straight ahead is the ceiling. I feel completely numb, and although I can see Scott's lips moving, I cannot hear him. A doctor I don't recognize is speaking, as well, but I can't hear her, either. I shut my eyes again and allow darkness to overtake my senses. Even with my eyes closed, I can feel the hard surface under me moving at a rapid pace, and it jerks slightly, perhaps running into a door before coming to a complete halt.

"Mitch, respond if you can hear me." the unfamiliar doctor says, and I open my eyes again slightly to find my setting different; a room with gray walls, a plastered white ceiling, and a tile floor surround me now. I am still mostly numb, but I flinch away sharply when a cold hand settles on my arm, causing a dry sob to force it's way out of my mouth from the excruciating pain that shoots straight through me, only causing everything to feel worse. "Mitch, your lungs are filling rapidly and the flow of oxygen to the rest of your body is decreasing, so I'm going to put you under anesthesia, and I'm going to have to drain the fluid." I don't respond, only shut my eyes again in a vain attempt to rid my head of what feels like a bullet wound. A needle pricks my arm, but the sensation feels muted. Before long, I am drifting asleep.

****

When I wake up, I immediately wish I hadn't. I have to stare straight up to avoid looking at the tube protruding from my side. What's worse is that I cannot feel it, but I've been in this situation enough times to know that it is there. A new addition: a mask over my mouth and a pump hooked to it, controlling each breath I take with no assistance from me. The air entering my lungs feels unnatural somehow, as if it is not what I usually breathe. I try to move, but my limbs refuse to budge. After minutes of straining effort, I manage to slide my arm off the side of the mattress, letting gravity take care of the rest. Something pokes sharply at the crook of my arm and I look down to see an IV connected to it. Across the room, a small window is pulled slightly open, a warm breeze drifting in, and next to the window I spot someone sitting in a chair. Someone I hadn't noticed before. Scott. Even in the darkness I can see his eyes shining brightly, wide and alert. I part my desert-dry lips to speak, but all that comes out is a croak, muffle by the mask over my mouth. Even the small attempt at talking drains my limited energy, but I force my eyes to stay open as Scott rises from his chair and walks toward me in slow strides.

"Don't try to say anything. Just let me talk." His voice is soft, comforting in the best way, and it cuts through the haze overwhelming my mind. "No one knows I'm in here. I'm not supposed to be, but I wanted to be here in case you woke up. I had to say this to you, because I don't know if I'll ever get the chance again." My heart wrenches as I start to fully understand the urgency of our situation. I am dying. Quickly. "Mitch, I love you. I love you with something that is so much stronger than love. I can't even begin to describe it to you. You are my everything, and my home and my rock and so many other things and I don't really know how I'm going to live without you, but all I know is that soon I might have to and I've tried to come to terms with that. I really have. But no matter what I do, if I imagine my life without you in it, it seems...dark. And empty. And I know, I know that's not what you want to hear right now, but I can't let you die without knowing how much you mean to me.

"Every single day, I fall for you again. I know we haven't been going out for that long, barely even two months, but these have been the best two months of my life because you gave me something to live for." He stops speaking and grabs my hand while my glassy gaze stays fixed on the ceiling and I still have no control over my movements or my breathing. I feel something inside of me shift and the heart monitor begins to slow down drastically and far too quickly. "I love you, Mitch." He is crying now, his eyes squeezed shut and holding my numb hand to his chest tightly. I try to say, "I love you, too," but not so much as a croak comes out this time. Everything slows down. Everything hurts. My chest feels like someone lit a match inside it and I close my eyes to see if it helps. It does, so I just lay that way, feeling nothing outside of the fire spreading through me, seeing nothing, in my own little world of hurt and sadness and love and muteness and suddenly everything stops. For a moment, I wonder if I died. I wonder if this sudden numbness is a kind only brought on by no longer living in pain. I feel as though I am floating on a cloud and try to open my eyes again, but they stay locked shut. My mind is just as blank as my senses, and everything that I ever went through disappears. I almost smile at the euphoric nothingness I feel, but just as suddenly as it came, it rushes away and I feel everything again all at once, letting out a bloodcurdling scream and arching against gloves hands and two metal pads on my chest.

"He's flatlining again!" A frenzy of voices reaches me and two faint words float through my lips.

"Love...too."

****

The first thing I hear is the dim sound of hushed crying, overpowered by the ringing in my ears. I don't bother to open my eyes just yet; instead I let a machine breathe for me and note that I somehow am still alive. Once I finally open my eyes, I am surprised to see not my mother, as I had thought it was, but my dad. He is staring out the window at the gray overcast and the slowly falling snowflakes, so he doesn't see me awake, but I stay still and wait for him to notice, feeling too drained to do anything else. It is when my grandmother walks in that he finally turns around and spots me. I see an unmeasurable amount of worry wash away with a tidal wave of relief when he sees my eyes parted open. My grandmother also turns toward me, smiling in a way that conveys relief and worry and love and happiness all at the same time.

"Mitch." My dad's voice is strained as he comes toward me.

"Hi." I say, voice hoarse and throat so dry that it feels like I have never had water before in my life.

"You're alive."

"It would appear that way." I am grateful to find that I am no longer numb and there are no tubes coming out of me. I still have an IV in my arm and a heart monitor attached to me, but other than the mask over my mouth, that seems to be it. I ask the first thing that comes to mind. "Did...did I die?" He looks away and nods.

"Yeah. They had to restart your heart, and after that, they had to put you on life support." He takes a long winded breath, and it almost feels as if he is bragging. "You were in a coma. No one thought you were going to wake up again. It's a miracle that you did. The life support was the only thing keeping you alive."

"Has Scott been here?" He nods again.

"We got him visitation so he could see you without being dragged out by security."

"How long was I in a coma?"

"Couple months." he murmurs, shaking his head and staring at the ground.

"Months?" I ask, shocked. The snow outside the window suddenly makes sense. "When can I leave?" He brings his watery gaze back up to mine, and I look over at my crying, silent grandmother.

"I don't know, Mitch."