Hypocrisy (Austlan Cashby)

Chapter 32

Maybe if Austin would've told me he had a preexisting heart condition, I wouldn't be so surprised. Maybe this feeling in my chest would've been dulled down. Maybe my hopes would be somewhat raised if I had known that he was sick.

But, that wasn't the case and I find myself slipping into shock. Staring at the blank hospital walls, I allow myself to shut down again, letting silence get the best of me. Although, with what's going on not many people have tried to start a conversation. The doctors asked questions I couldn't answer and they resorted to asking them to Phil, who only went off of what he heard from me. Some questions he answered wrong, but I couldn't find the strength to lift my tongue up and say that.

Austin was very, very sick. At one point, his life was in my hands and I really didn't think I could do it, but my actions got ahead of my thoughts and I called 911, admitting that I had no clue what was going on.

The sound of him hitting the floor is still in my head, along with the way his body was at the position it was in. To me, he looked dead. But, I didn't want to admit it for the fact that this was the man I wanted to marry, not die.

Why didn't he tell me he was sick? Did he not trust me? Would I have overreacted? Deciding on the later, I made a mental note on yet another thing I needed to change about myself; overreacting.

Finally moving, I brought my head to my knees and let the tears flow. But, no sound was coming out of my mouth. No sobs or cries, just the salty liquid coming from my eyes. That's why this all felt so fake, I was too paralysed to process any of it and although I had the basics, nothing else could sink in. Basically, my feelings were done, leaving me with tears and lack of a voice. Not that I needed to talk, but I could physically feel frown lines forming on my face.

Anything to wake me up would be better, anything to make me feel something. This feeling of sadness was dragging me down, I was drowning more than ever, coming to the point where it's too deep to see where the surface is. With each passing minute, I was being drug down more as things started to sink in. Now, I was feeling too much.

Making an attempt to run to the bathroom, my legs collapsed from under me, making my vision black around the edges. Trying to get up, I fell again, finally getting people's attention. The darkness got bigger as time went by, and now I couldn't see anything.

-

The first thing I noticed when I came to was Phil's long brown hair hanging over the unfamiliar bed, his face turned to look down at me.

"Hey, you're awake," he said. With this, his girlfriend stood up and waved. Trying to wave, I couldn't get my hand to go up. This time, I was really paralysed. Signalling to my arm, I told him with gestures that I couldn't move it.

"You went into shock, man."

I nodded, it made sense. Too much has been going on.

"Austin," I whispered. Phil shook his head.

"He hasn't woken up yet."

Biting my lip, I blinked to keep the tears where they needed to be. But, one fell out. Phil got the message and left, taking Anouk with him.

"Fuck!" I shouted, letting them go. Pressing my head into the bed, I pulled the covers over me to create a dark shelter with warm air to breath, I was just breathing the same air over and over again, causing my lungs to burn a bit. Deciding I didn't care, I made the hole smaller so the burning could intensify. Just as I had thought, my lungs where on fire from the lack of new air. Not by my command, my head shot out from under the covers, sucking in the fresh air.

I can't do this. I can't feel like this. This hurts too much.

Knowing he is on the verge of death in another room makes me want to rip my skin apart. But, knowing I could've been faster and not hesitated when I did makes me want to slit my throat. I'd rather Austin and I to have never been a thing if it meant never going through this feeling.

The feeling of worthlessness, intensified by 100,000,000. I hate myself. If anybody else was there he would've been here faster.

"I hate you, Alan," I said to myself, bringing my legs to my chest and rocking back and forth.

My fingernails dug into my skin, threatening to just rip it all off. Moving my arm back and forth a bit, I frowned at the small red marks I had created. They were too far from my skin just falling off and created nothing more but redness and little flakes of white coming up my arm.

Grabbing my hair, I tugged and cried more, my cries turning into jagged breaths. My fingernails moved to my hip where I grabbed it, resulting in four small fingernail marks on them.

Phil burst into the room, holding my hands back. Surprisingly, my hip had began to bleed.

"Stop this," Phil said, letting go of my hands but keeping a close eye on where they went.

"Why?"

"Austin wouldn't want you destroying yourself at a time life this, how would he?"

I bit my lip so hard It broke the skin, the metal taste filling my mouth. Ignoring it, I shoved my head into the bed, crying and screaming to let out all of this feeling I had inside me.

It's my fault.