Instant. (A Jack Gilinsky Fan Fiction)

chapter 44. | the aftermath

After a disaster, there is always an aftermath. And in every aftermath, there's always loss.

If there's an earthquake, there will be homes to rebuild, light posts to set up, people to find. Loss. If there's a hurricane, there will be palm trees to replant, signs to put back up and lost roofs to reinstall. Loss. When someone's been shot, there will always be life or death, questions you will always ask yourself: Could I've done something to prevent this? Was it my fault? Will they live? Loss.

Though none of these questions will never really be answered; they still remain. I've been asking myself those questions ever since my disaster happened.

This is my aftermath.

Paramedics, police, firefighters and news reporters. They all surrounded the scene. It was more chaotic now then when I was stuck in a room with a shooter. People were running, asking the students I was with questions while other authorities told them to back off. Nothing was calm, but me.

"That Diazepam really helped, didn't it?" The paramedic asked me, smiling as she gently rubbed my arm.

My eyes were puffy. I held the warm blanket wrapped around my body closer and said nothing. I was drowsy, no energy whatsoever. In my arm there was an IV shooting cold fluid up my vein. Supposedly, this would make me feel better. But how could I when the man I love has been shot and I have no idea whether or not he's still alive.

I sat in the library. It's been an hour and 45 minutes since they took Jack away in the ambulance. I've yet to hear any news about him. About anything. We were held inside this horrific place for questioning and examination until told so to step out. No families, no friends, just strangers running tests and questions on you.

"Jack." I grabbed her hand, stopping the paramedic from standing up. "Jack Gilinsky. H-He was taken away from here to the hospital. Do you know anything about him?" I asked. "I-Is he alive?"

The paramedic looked at me with sorry in her eyes. Words almost unable to speak. "Sorry, I'm afraid I don't know the answer to that."

Shaking her head, the lady moved away from my touch and followed back to help someone else. It wasn't long until someone else came over to keep me company.

Handing me a cold bottle of water and a granola bar, Shawn took a seat besides me. "You should eat." He persuaded.

I shook my head.

"C'mon Zo, it's almost 4 in the afternoon. You gotta be starving." His hand met my back to rub small circles to it.

"I'm not." My vision remained on my hands. There were small cuts on the palms of my hands from how hard I fisted them in fear of Jack being shot. My fingernails literally dug into my own skin.

"He'll be okay." Shawn later spoke up. "He's a strong guy, Jack."

My head turned to look at Shawn. You could see the look of sorry and guilt in his eyes. I'm sure he really regretted being so distant from Jack over some little thing.

Before I could say anything else, another paramedic came in front of us with a clipboard in his hand.

"Zoey Wineguard? Shawn Mendes?" He asked.