last words [l.t]

chapter 1

\\meg wrote, susan edited//

»l o u i s«

I rocked back and forth not know what to say or do. My baby girl, the one that I would die for, is now going to be dead. Thoughts rushed through my head as my vision became blurry and I lost all of the feeling in my legs as I fell to the hard, cold, white tilled floor with my head in my hands sobbing.

"Um... Mr. Tomlinson?" Dr. Slaten asked tapping my shoulder lightly.

"Y-yeah?" I asked my voice getting hoarser by the moment.

I was in no mood to talk to any doctor right now, even if she held news about Meg I wouldn't process it right. You would probably act the same way if your true love was dying slowly, because of you.

"Well Emily's case is a rare one we haven't seen anything like it before." she said scratching the back of her neck.

It's just an given sense, like when people always say you actually have six senses. Well mine is reading peoples' feelings, so I can tell when someone is happy, sad, in love, nervous, and all that good stuff.

Suddenly getting enough strength to stand up by myself I stand up and face her.

"What is it?" I asked more worried then I was before.

She sighed "Well when you crashed she went through the window and hit her head badly, so bad that something went off in her brain," she explained pausing "and now her brain connections to other body systems are going away slowly. Soon enough the connection to her brain and heart will be lost and she will die unexpectedly"

My mouth went dry as I opened my mouth to say something but nothing came out. It was like I'd forgotten how to speak. I cleared my throat holding back the sobs and cries just begging to be set free and turned to look at her.

My eyes scanned her body. Paler then usual, probably just as warm though, almost lifeless, still, and peaceful.

Her dirty blonde or golden (as I like to call it) hair was in a messy bun just like the one I put it in this morning rushing her out the door. Oh how I wish that I could have waited a couple minutes.

My feet acted quicker then my brain did and before I knew it I was kneeling at her side stroking her arms.

"Em...what have I done?" I asked sobbing every few seconds, "I've ruined my chance of ever spending the rest of my life with you, but," I started, "I will find away to spend my life with you and if that's dying with you so be it I will." I whispered, looking at her beautiful scarred up face.

Knowing what I would have to do to die sent a shiver down my back and a few more tears to roll down my cheeks.

"I'll just leave you alone, come and get me if you need me." the doctor told me but I barely heard, too busy drowning in my own tears to hear.

Feeling horrible I just sat there in the silence crying to myself wanting more then anything to feel her arms wrap around me and tell me everything will be okay and that she'll be alive forever, but will that ever happen now? No, and I hate myself for it so much.

After what seemed like hours of crying I finally had the courage to look up and her wounded body, which sadly brought more tears to my eyes. Other then her scared up face her left leg was banged up with purple and dark brown bruises, her right arm was in a cast probably broken, but luckily those were the only two major injures. Other then that she still looked like the perfect girl I know.

I wiped my eyes and just sat there thinking to myself about how much I seriously screwed up my whole entire life. Thanks to one silly argument what I thought my life was going to be like flew out the window faster then anyone trying to get away from the fans and the paps.

My now blood shot eyes darted around the almost shining white room until they landed on something that surprised me. It was her 'Frozen' pull string backpack that she put in the car a couple weeks ago. She was freaked out that she couldn't find it, because she said that it had my 'one year anniversary' gift in it. Thank God I found it now, but how did it get here? That's my main question.

Slowly I pick my self up the ground and clumsily walk about a couple inches to the backpack, but to me it felt like two thousand miles. I reach down, pick it up, carry it to the sliver metal chair, and finally flop down, my movements almost robotic.

My still shaking hands play with the bright blue rope-strings wanting to see what she got me so badly, but still something held me back.

"What would happen if I really did open it?"

"What if she woke up? What would she do if she saw me opening up her backpack?"

Those two questions swirled around in my head not ever wanting to stop. I took a deep breath in and out and told myself.

"What's the harm of just looking?"

And so I did.

€€

A/N

And so there it is! Sorry it took so long I was busy but I promise when it's my turn to write again I'll be quicker!

Lots of love,

Meg and Susan