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Day 18: A Song That You Wish You Heard on the Radio

Day 18: A Song That You Wish You Heard on the Radio

"Beating Heart" by Ellie Goulding

Wanna hear your beating heart tonight
I want to make the best of what is left, hold tight
And hear my beating heart one last time

“How many hours do you have left?” I ask my boyfriend over the phone while I trudge to the small kitchen housed in my apartment.  Holding the phone to the crook of my neck with my ear, I pull my shawl tighter around me as I see the snowflakes float down from the sky.

“Two or three,” Scott answers.  “It shouldn’t be long now.  Before you know it, I’ll be on your front porch greeting you with a kiss.”

I see at his statement, but I can hear how tired he is.  “Should you stay at a hotel for the night?  I don’t want you to have an accident with this weather.”

“No, I’ll be fine.  I’m going to stop by a gas station in a bit and refuel and get some coffee.”

“Okay,” I say nervously.  “Just please be careful and—”

A screech of tires and the blaring of a car horn cut me off.  “Oh my—!” I hear Scott begin to say and then a loud, sickening crunch fills the phone and then the line goes dead.

“S-scott?” I whisper, clutching my phone.  “Scott?!”  My heart it’s my throat as I quickly redial, my hands shaking.  All I get is his voicemail.  “No!”  I scream, the clogged tears at the back of my throat making my words scratchy.  I try not to think about what possibly could’ve happen but I know I’m lying to myself.  “No no no no,” I keep chanting to myself as I begin pacing back and forth in my kitchen.  A thought strikes me and I quickly dial Scott’s parents.

“Hello?” a sleepy, elderly woman’s voice greets me.

“Cheryl?  It’s JJ.  I think Scott’s been in a car accident.”  I hear Scott’s mother gasp, now fully awake, and I plunge right into telling her what happened over the phone.

“Oh goodness…” Cheryl breathes out at the end of my speech.

“We need to find out what hospital he’s in,” Patrick, Scott’s father, says.  He had heard Cheryl’s gasp and joined her as I had began my spiel.

Suddenly, like our prayers were answered, I hear a phone’s shrill in the background.  I wait with baited breath, continuing to pace like I’ve been doing for the past ten minutes.

“He’s at a hospital in Indianapolis,” I hear Patrick finally say.  “And he’s in a coma.”

My whole world stops.

“W-what?”

“The crash causes Scott to enter a coma.  He hit his head on the steering wheel pretty hard.”

I quickly walk to my room and grab an overnight bag, throwing clothes into it.  “I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

“No, JJ, stay at your apartment.  It’s late and the roads are bad.  You can drive—carefully, I may add—to the hospital in the morning,” Cheryl tells me.

“What are you guys going to do?” I ask, stopping my spur-of-the-moment packing.

“We don’t know yet, but please, stay home.  Come in the morning.”

I begin to argue with them, but a yawn escapes me.  “Fine,” I grumble.  “But call me if Scott’s condition changes.”  I end the call after Scott’s parents agree and I finish packing.  Looking at the clock, I see it’s 3 in the morning.  I yawn again and crawl into bed.  I’m physically exhausted but my mind’s going a mile a minute.

Sleep evades me and it’s the crack of dawn when I’m finally able to fall into a restless slumber.

“How is he?!” I ask frantically, running into the hospital waiting room.  I had called Cheryl and she was waiting for me.

Her face tells me the news.

I run my fingers through my disheveled hair.  “Never mind.  Can I see him?”

“Of course, sweetie.”  Cheryl smiles wanly at me and I notice the dark bags underneath her eyes.  She leads me to Scott’s room, which is located in a small wing for people in a comatose state.  Patrick is there by Scott’s bedside and seeing Scott lying there on the stark white sheets makes my heart almost stop.

So many tubes and wires are coming out of his body.  His face is deathly pale and it looks like he’s barely breathing, unless you carefully watch for the minuscule rise and fall of his chest.  His head is bandaged and there’s multiple cuts and bruises on the visible part of his skin.

To put it simply, he looks like he’s been to hell and back.

I cover my mouth with my hand, tears prickling the back of my eyes.  “How’s he still alive?” I ask in a hushed tone.

“The doctor says that there’s brain activity… he just isn’t waking up,” Patrick says standing up and embracing me.

After pulling away, I look at the two.  “Why don’t you go to the cafeteria and get some coffee?” I suggest.  “I’ll watch over him.”

Cheryl and Patrick trade glances before hesitantly agreeing.

After they leave, I sit down where Patrick was and hold Scott’s hand lightly.  “Scott?” I whisper before breaking down in tears.  I bury my face in the bed sheets, my tears wetting them.  Finally, I come up for air and study him.  “C’mon, Scott.  You can fight this.  Do it for your parents, for me.”

All I hear is the response of the heart machine, telling me he’s still alive.

Alive but not awake.

“Dang it. Scott!  You can fight this!  It’s just a silly little coma!”  But I know it's anything but.

Cheryl and Patrick come back from the cafeteria and we all sot around and talk about Scott.  A few laughs are shared but most of the time it’s somber.

Then, my world doesn’t just stop, it crashes and burns.

Beeeeeep.

“No!” I scream.  “Scott, don’t you leave me!”  I cling onto the bed and nurses have to pull me away.  “Scott!  No!  Please!”  If I was just crying before then now I’m sobbing.

My screams and sobs fill the hallway.  I must look like an animal, but I don’t care. 

The doctor comes out and with one look at his face, I know he’s gone.