If I Stay » Parker

what still remains

nine;
what still remains.

✱ ✱ ✱

WHAT STILL REMAINS in my life if I stay? It was a question that at first was easy to answer. But, as each day in that hospital room passed by, the universe took more and more away from me, leaving me dangling by a thread as I hung between life and death. The string that had been keeping me from leaving had been the thought of having to leave my brother alone in the world without a family. But now, that string had been cut, and I wondered what was now keeping me from saying goodbye and moving on. It seemed like my time had come, I was almost ready to make my decision, but yet there was something tugging on my shirtsleeve, telling me to wait one more day.

And so I did. One more day. I told myself that was all I needed.

Day eight. Eight days since the moment my life had changed forever, since the course of my destiny had been thrown off track. I had watched my parents killed right in front of me. My body was broken, and the dream I'd had since I was a little girl had been ripped right out of my hands. And as if that wasn't enough, the most innocent soul, my beloved little brother, had been taken away. I kept thinking that it should've been me.

The choice was weighing on my heart night and day, and I couldn't tear my thoughts away from anything else. Each time Hannah came in to check my vitals, I would stand behind her and peek at the notes she was scribbling down. No cognitive processing. Extremely elevated blood pressure. High levels of carbon dioxide in the blood. Of course, none of it seemed to be affecting whether or not I would live or die. That was completely up to me. Some days, the decision seemed easier than others.

That evening was a particularly emotional one. Leaning against the wall farthest from my bed, I sat upon the cold floor of the hospital room, feeling as if my entire body's weight was concentrated in my head. It felt like my skull was being split in half, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the splitting headache. It was as if my body was finally starting to feel the effects of the crash. Either that, or my time on earth was coming to a painful end. Whichever it was, it was making me miserable.

Clara was sat in the chair next to the bed where my body laid. They had finally taken the oxygen mask off of my face, for I was no able to breathe without a ventilator. With eyes swollen shut and lips slightly parted, it was much clearer to see how the color was drained from my face and how purple and red bruises littered my cheeks and neck.

My friend had a chemistry textbook open in her lap, and she was scribbling equations on a piece of notebook paper, humming a quiet melody to herself that overlapped the beeping of the cardiac monitor. "Today in class, Mrs. Soter got onto me for singing too much in class. She's always been so sensitive to noise. I swear, even breathing too loudly sets her off."