Just Another Love Story

Chapter 5

I wake up surrounded by doctors, all of the ones in the room but the ginger one, he is in the corner watching from the corner of his eye with an edge of worry. The one with blonde hair helps me to a chair next to the bed while most of them file out of the room. All that is left is the one with ginger hair and another one with long brown hair and brown eyes. I feel something hot and wet on my face and I move to wipe it off. I touch what it is and realise they are tears, I hadn't realised that I had been crying. I take Quincy's hand in mine and it feels cold to the touch.

"What happened to him?"

"We don't know. We think it might have been his body's way of trying to heal itself. But we don't know why it happened so suddenly. Usually the patients just go to sleep and wake up a few days later. He just seemed to pass out, which the people on the ambulance thought was a seizure, and is now in a coma." She takes my other hand. "He may not wake up for a few weeks."

I turn to Quincy and try not to focus on all that is wrong with him, but what is right. His heart is still beating, he is just sleeping, he is just healing. The nurse notices that I'm not going to respond so she pats my unoccupied hand and stands up to leave.

"Wait," I'm just as surprised as she is that I said something and I put down Quincy's hand, "What's your name?"

"Violet. Yours?"

"Marrissa."

"You'll be OK alone?"

"Yeah. I just wasn't expecting to see him so..." I cut off, not sure how to finish the sentence.

"I understand. It shocks most people to see their loved one like this." She gestures to Quincy, "But only few react like you did. Why did you react like that? You were out for nearly 2 hours."

I decide that she is trustworthy enough to tell. I wave for her to sit back down next to me. "I'm not actually his sister." I say quietly.

"Yeah, I figured that out. But how are you connected?" She responds quietly.

"Well, we're... friends." I sound unsure of how to explain what kind of relationship we're in, but she seems to understand. She nods goodbye and walks to the door. She turns around and says "If you ever need to talk, I'm always here."

"OK." I know that she isn't just talking about how she can help me with emotional stress. But with my relationship problems.

I turn back to Quincy in his neck and arm braces that a doctor put on while I was talking to Violet. I pick up his hand again and it seems warmer than it was before. This gives me hope and I whisper "Please wake up" to Quincy when I smooth his hair away from his face. His eyelid twitches and his hand clenches around mine. It surprises me enough that I let out a small yelp. The doctors look at me weirdly and I apologize quietly. I decide not to tell either of them because they will probably just tell me that "it is something that happens all the time" and "that it is completely normal" or that it there is "no reason to start hoping he will he will wake up soon". As soon as I finish that thought, Quincy mumbles something in his sleep.

It sounded like "I'm trying." But it could be anything. His hand closes around mine again and I just sit back and wait. I can't do anything anyways. The other two doctors leave and I am alone.

"Please Quincy, show me that you can hear me. I don't want to have to leave you. I want to see your eyes one more time. Just squeeze my hand twice. That's all." I wait for 5 minutes, nothing. I remember once that my mom said that when her friend was in a comatose state and they could hear everything people said, but couldn't respond to them. I realize that I should keep talking just incase.

"My mom once said that her friend could hear what people said while she was in a coma. So I'm just going to keep talking. I am the only one in here since the doctors will only let your mom or me in." I pause, trying to think of something to say. "I'm sorry about how I reacted to the fight with my dad. I shouldn't have freaked out about how you were trying to comfort me. I don't know why it made me get so mad at you." The tears threaten to return while I talk, and I don't try to stop them. No one is here to see me, and if they do see me they will just think that I'm crying about his coma. "I shouldn't have..." I don't finish the sentence and realize I have so many ways to finish it. I also don't want to continue sounding so weak and hurt, so I decide to leave. "I'm sorry, I'll get your mom. She'll want to see you. But I will come back."