The Boy | Corbyn Besson WDW story

chapter 27

isabelle.

emotions.
we use them on a day to day basis. whether we're happy or hurt.

and now we're not only sad but confused.
_

at the hospital...

i woke up hooked to alarms, beeping every 2.36 seconds. trapped in a room with 4 beige walls and two windows on the southeast corner.

"hey you're awake"
it was Corbyn.

"i remember this place.. i wish i didnt"

"what do you mean?"

"look across the hall.. room 206, right?"

"yes- oh."

"Mays old room. which means this is roo-"

"room 207."

i looked at him right in the eyes, i could see the hurt and the pain. how couldn't i ? i feel the same way. it's been a year, 2 months, and exactly 3 days since i've been discharged. and it's been 2 years 8 months and 12 days since Mays passing.

"2 years eigh-"

"eight months and twelve days.. but who's counting, right?"

he knows. i didn't think he'd wanna reflect on such a heart wrenching event. i mean i know i don't. but i do, for sure. we got so close, then she just slipped away.

"corbyn. why am i in the cancer wing, i had a miscarriage not a tracheotomy." (sorry)

"the doctors just needed to make sure the miscarriage didn't have anything to do with your lung cancer. that's all"

"a-and did it"

i almost choked on my words. me, being the reason that my two beautiful babies are dead. i just can't bare the thought. i almost didn't realize there were tears falling from my eyes, like waterfalls almost.

"yes, it did."

the person who spoke wasn't Corbyn, and it wasn't Clary. i knew who it was, i would usually jump for joy every time i hear this voice. but this time it's just not the same. it was Nurse Jenna.

"nurse jenna, uh hi."

"hey baby, how are you holding up."

"not so good anymore"

my two babies just died. and it's my fault. how just how am i supposed to come back from that. they had a whole life ahead. but i didn't even get to see them.

i didn't get to hold them, touch their little fingers, hold their small soft hands. kiss their small soft lips. i didn't get to do any of it.

"it's not your fault isabelle" corbyn says.

"it is."

"no it's no-"

"YES IT IS CORBYN, THEY DIED CAUSE OF ME."

"you couldn't control that is."

it's all my fault.

_

third person.

isabelle was lying in the hospital bed, the pillowcase almost soaked wet with tears. and the pain, getting stronger and stronger.

corbyn tried to calm her down but it was no use, she was grieving, and he has to let her do so. atleast for the time being.

a couple hours later...

isabelle had eventually cried herself to sleep. corbyn being slightly relieved, at least she couldn't cry while she slept.

clary has entered the room, waking isabelle from what was a deep slumber. isabelle had been sleeping for a decent amount of time. but with all this information going through her mind all she wanted to do was go home.

and so she did.. well.

kind of.

________________________________
it's my birthday, i'm officially one year older!
hehe
this made me cry
also my softball team is tryna kill me
and i want a bf
adios
-author