prove me wrong

• 54 •

"We do not know if he'll get through," the doctors had said, and then, "The odds are bad." Tyler had been pushed into the operation an hour ago. Then, about half an hour ago, Mrs. Joseph had come, her hair completely messed up, her eyes stressed and her eyes wide open anxiously. For a moment she had been lost in the large entrance hall of the hospital, then, when she had seen me, she had run over to me and wordlessly embraced me. Then she would have started crying. After the surgery was over and the doctors told us that Tyler was in intensive care, that he was still unconscious and his condition was critical, I felt I was about to collapse. And since then, Mrs. Joseph and I sat in silence on two hard chairs in an empty hall, staring at the door ahead of us, behind which lay Tyler. His head was hit against a wall several times, probably by another person. This had led to a brain bruise and the skullcap was also damaged. While I waited with my head against the wall, thousands of thoughts passed through my mind, one of which always stood out clearly: Who had it been? I could not think of a person who might have hated Tyler enough to do something like that to him. Although ... yes, there was one. But would Jordan go that far? I shook my head to get rid of the annoying thought, just like trying to get rid of a fly. He's your brother, I said to myself. But was he really? I hardly knew him. And he knew me even less. He hated me. I decided to think about it later. All that mattered at the moment was that Tyler got back on his feet. He was not allowed to die. He had to get through, somehow. I did not care if I had to patch it all together again. I just wanted to have it again. I wanted to see him laugh. "You can go to him now." I looked up and looked into the eyes of a young doctor. "W-how is he?" Mrs. Joseph asked, jumping to her feet. The doctor cleared his throat, and his face reminded me of my father, back when he had explained to me where my mother had gone. "He's still unconscious," the doctor said after a long pause. "It could take a few more days to get it back, or longer, or ..." he stopped and shook his head. But I knew what he had wanted to say. Or never again. "If you're lucky, he'll wake up in a few days and then he'll be back soon, but nobody's so lucky." I stifled tears again and nodded stiffly. We followed the doctor into the room where Tyler lay. It was white and sterile, as were all the hospital rooms. Tyler would have hated it. No, I improved inwardly, he will hate it. When he wakes up. I did not know if I dared to hope, and though I tried to suppress hope, it was there, the way it always is. They want to keep their hopes down so as not to be disappointed, and then they are there. Tyler was connected to numerous monitors that beeped steadily and evenly. I held on to this beeping, telling myself that as long as this beeping was there, Tyler was still here. "Ty," I mumbled as the doctor and finally Tyler's mum were gone. Mrs Joseph wanted to go to the bathroom, I think. "Come back, okay?" I pushed up the sleeve of the hand that I had been holding for many hours. With shaky hands, I pulled the bracelet out of my pocket and put it around his wrist. "I wanted to give you that," I said and smiled sadly. "I thought you would like it, do you like it?" Tyler's face remained unchanged. I wiped a tear from my eyes, then kissed his forehead and squeezed his hand lightly. "I love you," I mumbled. "I love you so much, Tyler, so much so that it hurts." And then I started to sob, holding on to the warmth of Tyler's hand and the beeping of the gadgets.