Insecure {AUGUST ALSINA}

40.

"Catalina!" Catarina shouts my name from the living room for the fifth time.

"Oh my god! What?!" I shout back, as I limp towards her in frustration. The boot on my leg trails behind me.

"Please help me." She sighs, her voice sounding less panicked than it was a few seconds ago.

"What!?" I groan.

When I make it to her, I see her sealing invitations with 'C' shaped wax seal stamps. There are dozens of envelopes stacked beside her and plenty that haven't been sealed.

"No." I shake my head, because I already know what she wants.

"Pleaseee. They're for your party."

"Ex- My party? What party?" I stare at her, astounded by the fact that she's throwing me a party that I don't know about.

"Your birthday party." She looks at me as if I'm the one out of line here. "I told you about it months ago. Not my fault your forgot."

"Yeah. You told me. You never asked, which I was assuming you would, because that's what decent people do-"

The emergency sound from the news cuts my rant short. I glance at the T.V to see the reporter on the screen. I do a double take when I see the the hospital that I'd recognize anywhere behind him.

"Catalina!" Catarina scolds me.

"Wait." I put my hand up to silence her, not taking my eyes off of the T.V for a second.

"It was 3:47 p.m when gunshots went off inside of Adventist Health Hospital. Witnesses say three men wearing all black rushed into the building shortly before the shots begin. The number of those injured aren't confirmed at the moment. Suspects have not been identified-"

I stare at the T.V in astonishment. Ashton is there. I feel this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, like I'm going to puke. He patrols the second floor, but when he's not there he's always in the lobby greeting patients. God forbid he was there.

I can't imagine losing yet another person, but all I can think about is losing him. He's hurt, I don't know how, but I can feel it in my gut. Maybe it's the fact that he hasn't called me or maybe It's an uncanny connection.

I try to convince myself that he's okay: telling myself that he's a good person and good luck comes to those who are good people. Deep down inside I know it's bullshit. Death doesn't skip over anyone, it's most unbiased and unkind to those who don't deserve it. It hangs over our heads waiting for the first slip up so that it can snatch us away.

And what if it did just that? Took him away. Away from his family, his friends. Away from me. The person who- I'm afraid to admit it- but the person who needs him more than they need anyone right now. He's the only person who makes me feel normal, the only person who makes me happy.

I hurriedly reach for my cell phone and dial the hospitals number. My fingers shake each time I press a button. My chest heaves up and down as I wait for the to answer, but all I hear is ringing.

It rings in my ear and doesn't stop until I get frustrated and hang up. I re-dial their numbers. I don't care that their phones are probably off the hook right now, they should still be answering them.

"Pick up!" I grit out in frustration.

My anxiety builds with every ring in my ear. I two my foot in the ground quickly until the sound it makes fades away under the sound of my heartbeat.

"Take me." I turn to Catarina who is looking at me with a glimmer of concern in her eyes.

"Take you where?"