Jacqueline || BWWM

Finn

Finn

She doesn't respond, of course, anyone with half of a brain would've known that she wouldn't, but that doesn't stop me from feeling disappointed.

Focusing on a painting across the room, I hold on to her hand tighter before placing a light kiss to her knuckles.

Silence flows throughout the room for a moment before the doctor says, "Talk to her."

"Huh?"

He looks down at his clipboard for a second before continuing, "When you were talking to her, her internal activity increased. She seems to be trying to wake up."

I don't allow the words to sink in before I start talking about anything and everything that comes to mind.

I tell her about my upcoming trip to the Mediterranean. I tell her about Chip and the story of how I ended up with him. My Dad and his need to control my future. My Mom and I's weird relationship. How much I wish I had at least one sibling, but still she doesn't wake up.

In the very back of my mind, the part that I can't control no matter how hard I try, I start to panic at the possibility that she might not wake up. That she might actually be gone.

I shake my head quickly as if to clear out the thought but it's too late. The tight grip I keep on myself starts loosening and my mind is free to think of everything I've blocked out.

I can't stop the thoughts.

I can't stop seeing a future where she might not be there.

I can't control my rapid breathing or my shaky hands.

I can't make it stop.

I'm in over my head and me...I don't know what to do to.

I let go of Jacqueline's hand in fear that I might hurt her and push Jace? out of the way as I rush out of the little, too stuffy room. Breaking into a ran once I reach the hall, I douch people and medical workers until I finally make it outside.

The dark, midnight sky is a welcome change from the too bright lights of Jacqueline's room. The wind stings my skin as I pace the hospital sidewalk, but I pay little attention to it. My main forces are trying not to think. I'm convinced that if I push all thoughts of her out of my mind, what's happening might not exist. That I'll wake up and realize Jacqueline is actually fine and it was just a night fright.

My way of coping is childish and stupid, I'm well aware, but it's the only way I know.

As a last act before defeat, I pinch my skin for what seems to be the hundredth time. Like all the other times I've done it, it hurts like sh't.

Heaving a breath, and on the edge of losing it all, I pull out my phone and call my mom. More times than not, She and my Dad are my last option for a variety of reasons. Reasons that I try to never forget whenever I feel like I need them. Reasons that I can't seem to remember as I watch the call trying to conquer the thousands of miles separating them and me.

On the third ring, she answers the phone. "Honey?" Her voice is its normal too cheery tone. Usually, I find it annoying because it reminds of the voice one used on a small child, yet tonight I welcome it with open arms.