Pieces of You

ER

Mitch's POV

Jerome slumped to the ground. I know how in movies everything goes in slow motion, and it's so cheesy, but it's true. I felt everything happening around me, like I was in water and every sound or motion set off a ripple. Jerome went limp. I screamed his name. Ashley's eyes widened. Ty closed his eyes and hid his head in Sky's chest. Sky look at me.  My heart skipped a beat. Jerome was still breathing. It was a series of images flickering through my mind. An evil slideshow of impossibility. Is he still here with us? His eyes are opening! Ashley's head is buried into her palms. Sky is trying to tell us we have to go. He wants me to bring Jerome? Where are we going? I obey him immediately lifting Jerome in my arms. His head lolls around uselessly. What are we going to do?

Ashley's POV

We had to get him to a hospital. NOW. "SKY! Do you know the way out of here?" I screeched, attempting to wake him out of his daze. He nodded. "Well then we have to go! NOW!" I pulled his arm out the door and yelled at Mitch to take Jerome and come now. Everything after was just a blur of running and trees, and then the gradual change into small suburban houses. I can remember knocking on a door and someone calling 911. I can remember Jerome gasping and wheezing. I can remember him being loaded into an ambulance. I remember Mitch saying he was Jerome's brother so he could ride with him in the ambulance. The last thing I can remember is being driven to the hospital and seeing Jerome get wheeled into critical condition as the doors slammed into our faces.

Sky's POV

13 hours, 23 minutes, 58 seconds. 59. 13 hours ,24 minutes, 1 second. That's how long we've been sitting here. The ER was cold and desolate. Uncomfortable grey chairs lined the room, which we had used to make somewhere to rest on. I hadn't slept yet though, and Mitch was worse. He kept counting the minutes, asking every 30 minutes on the dot if he could see him yet. They haven't said yes yet, but the nurse manning the office was hugging Mitch as he cried on her shoulder. She was old, maybe 70? She kept stroking his back saying his friend would be alright. Her name was Rose, Mitch told me. 13 hours, 24 minutes. Mitch ran a hand through his disheveled mane. Tears flowed down the contours of his face landing on his lap with a small pat. I scanned the room. Ty was fast asleep, his face sticky with tears shed earlier. Ashley was sitting on the ground by a plastic fern, a small note book in her hand. She roughly swept her tears away, as she furiously wrote word upon word in her small book. They were different on each page. Some surrounded by flowers and vines, some were shaded in pure graphite, no white on the page at all. I didn't know what the word was though, it was always the same. I looked down at myself taking in my scuffed up appearance. Baggy jeans covered with stains of mud and tears, my shirt ripped in various places from sharp objects that stuck to my shirt while I was running. Curly mocha hair with brambles caught in it. I must look like some sort of homeless person. I suppose I was. "Mitchell Hughes?" The woman called making us all perk our heads up.

"I'm so sorry."

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JEROME NUUUUU! Sorry for this cliff hanger but I promise it's not what you think!