Last-Ditch Effort - Camp Camp

Being Timed Causes So Much Unnecessary Pressure

(9/10)

Max's POV

The night had been too long. Gwen didn't want to drop me off at home yesterday, but I knew I would have to return home eventually. I gave Gwen the antidote in fear that my parents would rip it away from me. I had to sneak past my dad, who had been passed out on the couch with beer bottles slowly rolling around on the wood floor. Mom was on the chair, passed out as well. She had cuts along her forehead, and as I made my way to my bedroom I saw small blood splatters on the wall.

I snuck out again the next morning and met up with Gwen, who thankfully still had the antidote. She had hid it in a little bag with tissue paper as if we were bringing a gift, that way the nurses wouldn't get suspicious when I walked the halls with a bottle of purple liquid. We sat in the hospital parking lot, waiting for the clock to change to 11:00.

As soon as the clock changed, Gwen and I sprung from the car. I raced into the lobby and didn't bother checking in with the receptionist. She could suck it. I slipped into the elevator just as the doors were closing, and by the time they did Gwen had just entered the lobby.

There were a few others in the elevator as well, probably here to visit a loved one. I tapped my foot on the ground and shoved my hands into my pockets, the bag of antidote dangling on my arm. Since my parents didn't think about me very often, they would just get me the same hoodie for every holiday and birthday. It had taken the joy out of Christmas morning, but I was thankful that I had a few backups since I lost my original hoodie in the fire.

Once the elevator dinged and the doors slid open for floor three, I shoved passed the other people and popped out into the hall. I sped walked over to David's room, but there was a group of doctors blocking the door. I stood on my toes to double check the room number, and sure enough the numbers on the door said 319.

"What's going on?" I interrupted their little meeting.

"Who are you?" One of the doctors turned and asked me.

"I'm someone planning to visit David." Please be alive, please be alive. Don't say I'm too late. Please.

The three doctors exchanged glances.

"He uh... Why don't you come over here for just a second." The doctor who had previously spoken gestured to a couch pushed against the wall across the corridor.

No no no.

I followed her over and took a seat as the other two doctors strutted away, probably to deal with something they considered more important.

"Your name is Max, correct?" She asked, I simply nodded. "I'm Dr. Anderson and I've been in charge of Mr. Copse for the past few days. Last night, he fell unconscious. It wasn't quite out of the ordinary, but it still caused a problem." She tucked a piece of straying blonde hair back behind her ear.

"What do you mean 'a problem?" Please no. Please no.

"We don't think he'll be waking up from this one." She gulped.

"How can you be sure?" I almost yelled, but I didn't have enough strength to get angry.

"His heart rate is quickly decreasing, his body... it's just shutting down. He'll probably go into cardiac arrest within the next hour or so. I'm sorry."

"But he's still alive?" I asked, hope flooding my body once more.

"For the moment, yes."

"Then can I have to moment? To... y'know, say my goodbyes?" My eyes traveled to the whiteboard hanging on David's room, his last name slowly fading away.