Meet me on the bridge

Chapter 17

I woke up, but something felt weird. I sat up and heard a voice.

"There is the boy get him on the stretcher! Hurry!" I guess that was a doctor or something I don't know.

But...I'm sitting up why are they telling them to hurry? I look down my eyes shooting open, it was my body. I don't understand. And I can't hear my voice. What's going on?

I see Peter running down, "I'm going with you guys that's my boyfriend!" He said worried.

He's still here? They tried to hold him back but he pushed through more going next to my body. I was standing looking at my body. How is this possible?! I should be dead!!

Where's the voice it will know!? What's going on? Why am I here watching the person I love most with my dead body! Am I dead?

———

At the hospital they hooked me up and told Peter that I was in a coma and that they don't know if I will ever wake up. But I could hear everything. Like they knew I'm standing right there listening too.

Peter held my hand sitting there, he said he wouldn't leave no matter what. The voice wasn't here, I had nothing from it saying that he's lying that it's fake. It felt...almost nice.

The hospital must've called my parents because surely they showed up. Peter didn't like that, he held my hand tighter as my body laid there motionless.

"He... we saw his note... he... he actually..." my father said softly staring at my body that was busted up dried blood the doctors will be coming in the clean, stitches, a cast, they are still worried I won't wake up.

But the sound of my father's voice was different, not drunk and angry, no where near sober and angry, but sad like he didn't have the heart to see his son in a hospital bed like this even though he's sent me to plenty growing up.

He sounded broken, and my mother... just stood there crying and saying, "my baby boy..."

I didn't want this, I didn't think this would happen. I stood up staring at them then the body that laid there. Then my eyes wandered to Peter who was holding my hand crying.

He's been crying since I jumped. I didn't want this. I wanted to die why is this happening? Is this hell?!

I sat next to Peter who shivered and looked around then back to my body, "I'm not going anywhere baby don't worry you'll wake up real soon I just know it." Then he smiled.

Why, why would you smile?! That damn smile!! Why I'm laying there I should be dead I was going to leave you why are you smiling! Stop! Get away from that damn body! Stop!!!

Nothing worked, no one could hear me ever. I sat there shaking and holding my head. I don't understand, I don't get why this is happening to me... I did the research I should have died!

"Peter dear you can go get some sleep and come back we are here." My mother said. I got scared they were never sad for me why now they tried to kill me many times!

No Peter please don't go... I know I said to go and get away from my body but please I don't trust them! I know I wanted to die but not by the hands of my parents please Peter! LISTEN...!

Peter looked up to my mother and father with a deadly glare, "you better not go anywhere near him, I don't care if you are his parents you are disgusting! You beat him up! You made him feel like he was nothing! You get the FUCK AWAY FROM MY BOYFRIEND OR I WILL GET THE FUCKING COPS!" He screamed holding my hand tighter. I was standing in the corner staring. "...I loved him so much and you made him feel like he would be better off dead, called him fag, made him think this was the only way... I don't want you near my Chris."

I watched, he actually loved me... so much...and I did this to him. Peter I love you. I love you so much I have to fix this please... this is hell. Hell isn't fire and screams of burning it's watching this. Seeing Peter like this.

———

A nurse had to get my parents out of there and there was a cop talking to them and asked if they had a note from me. My mother handed the one I wrote and they took them to the station. They asked Peter to go but he refused to go, to eat, to drink, he wouldn't move.

I stood there on the other side of the bed staring at the body, at the man I love. I wish he would eat, do something. He just sits there muttering and holding my hand. All I can do is watch and listen.