Eyes of Purple

Chapter Twenty- Six

         "How is he?"

        The doctor shook her head, glancing at the injured young man on the hospital cot. He was still alive, because ever-so-often his finger would twitch. Otherwise, there had been little signs of life the past few days.

        "We can't know for sure," she said, eyes grim. "It's difficult to tell exactly what to do here, mister Cawthon. Even if he gets well enough to be released, which I honestly doubt... He'll never be the same."

        Scott wasn't ready to give up just yet.

        "Do the best you can. I'm willing to wait- just be careful around mister Smith, doctor." His voice got lower. "He's going through a lot right now."

        "I'll keep that in mind."

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        Michael had taken over Jeremy's last shift. He and Scott had talked about this long and hard- Michael would finish Jeremy's week.

        Scott was beginning to get a bit worried about his friend. He'd gotten spacey, and didn't trust himself to be in the Pizzeria during the daytime. Michael spent all his free time at the hospital, staring off into nothing while he sat diligently at Jeremy's side. Most times, Scott would walk in and his friend would be whispering to himself, his head held in his hands. ​

        What was it that William had always used to say?

        'You can't.'

        'Follow me.'

        'I will put you back together.'

        "He's not gone."

        It's strange, what tragedy does to a person.