teacher ♤ s.t [rewriting]

41 ♤ Kick The Bucket

41 ♤ Kick The Bucket

C O U R T N E Y ♤

The trip to the hospital was short, but it felt much longer due to the fact that I was so anxious to see Joshua. It had only been two days since the phone call with mom. She had let me have off of classes today to visit him.

My mom reached into the backseat, grasping my hand, giving it a light squeeze before we got out of the car to head into the hospital.

It was a tall, looming building with hundreds of windows all looking out. There were cars, so many cars, parked outside that we had to weave through just to find the door to the building.

Once we were at the receptionist desk, my mom leaned over to whisper in my ear. "I'm going to wait down here for you."

"What?" I whispered nervously, whipping my gaze to face her.

"I visited him a few times already. I'm sure he would much rather see you alone, honey," she whispered gently, planting a kiss on my cheek. "I'll be right here if you need me."

I paused, then nodded hesitantly, watching her sit down, offering me a small wave. Letting one of the nurses lead me away into the hallway smelling of stiffness and formalities to the elevator, my hands trembled and I took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

The elevator ride was uncomfortable. I didn't want to converse with the nurse, and neither she with myself. Thus ensued incredibly awkward silence for the longest four minutes of my entire life.

When we finally reached the floor Joshua was on, the nurse led me down many hallways, past a set of double swinging doors labeled 'ICU', and finally to a large room.

She went to grab the handle of the door to go inside, but I yelped, "Wait! Please."

The nurse jerked her hand back in surprise. I offered a small apologetic smile at her before taking another deep breath.

I hadn't seen Joshua at all since this incident had come up. I couldn't quite believe that Josh- the kid with the drum set and hair that could be dyed any color any different day of the week- was lying on a hospital bed, either in a coma, or on his last few hours barely awake.

Taking in a deep breath, I gave a short nod to the nurse, signaling that she could open the door. She complied, slowly swinging it open, holding it for me to walk inside. The door shut behind me, and I caught one last glance of the nurse through the window before she walked down the hallway, out of sight.

I glanced around anxiously, my eyes landing on his bed.

And there he was. Lying on a hospital bed, cords and wires and tubes and all sorts of things attached to him. An IV in his arm, a breathing tube, etcetera.

He laid there, his eyes cracked open slightly. His hair was a feverish mess, and he looked as if he hadn't moved in ages. Nevertheless, he was a little awake, and Joshua had seen me.

I slowly approached the bed, taking a seat in a chair beside him. His chalky face lightened up slightly upon seeing me, a pained smile on his lips.

His eyes showed recognition and his smile fell back into a resting face.

"Hi, Josh," I greeted him quietly, slowly pulling my chair closer to him.

"How've you been?" I asked him politely, knowing he wouldn't respond. "I've been better myself," I confessed. I know it would be better for him to hear a fake response, but Josh always had preferred the truth.