The image replays over and over again in Cleo's mind like a sicken mantra. The memory is terrifyingly vivid. So crystal clear, it feels tangible, like she can reach out and grab it.
Jenny experiences the same painful sensation. She was not the one to find Maggie, but she remembers hearing Cleos blood-curdling scream and rushing into the bathroom. She can't get the image of Maggie's half-dead being out of her mind, no matter how hard she tries to push it away, it always lingers.
She remembers how Maggie's tawny brown skin glistened with sweat. Her skin had a blue tint and she was foaming at the mouth. Her pupils were so dilated, the whites of her eyes consumed by utter darkness.
They wouldn't let the women into the ambulance, so they followed behind it. Jenny drove manically, speeding and turning suddenly as she desperately kept up with the ambulance. It was strange to see the serene, sweet southern belle frantic and panicked.
The waiting room is the definition of bleak. Everything is stripped of color and replaced with dull shades of beige and white. A static sound is irritatingly present and it smells of stale coffee. The environment does nothing to ease the women. They are similar in their positions. Both are rigid in their seats, knees bouncing anxiously. Their eyes are bloodshot and stung from all the tears they've shed.
"I wish we had told her," Jenny whispers sullenly. Cleo furrows her eyebrows, sniffling. "Told her what?" Jenny turns her head, her hazy blue eyes meeting Cleo's hardened brown ones. "About us," Jenny mutters, her scratchy throat closing as she speaks. Cleo lets out a sigh, and reaches for Jenny's hand. Her skin's so soft and warm. Cleo does not feel calm though.
"I love you," Cleo declares quietly, her voice cracking. She bows her head, dark hair masking her face. "I love you too."
The two return to their silent state. They are absolutely drained, not an ounce of fuel left within them. They wait patiently but tiredly for the doctors. Cleo called Maggie's mother. She takes a red eye to Tacoma. The two can't imagine how she's feeling. To lose a partner in that grim, terrifying way is loss full of insane guilt and tremendous agony, but to lose a child in the same way, is an unimaginable loss.
"Excuse me, are you ladies here for Maggie Jolivet?" Their heads immediately snap upwards. They meet the questioning stare of an older man. "Yes, we are," Jenny answers quietly, voice scratchy and raw.
"She's in a medically induced coma right now, to stop any swelling or damage to her brain. Would you guys like to visit?" The news comes out in a calm, quick tone, but sends the women spiraling into madness. Neither of them can think, speak, even breathe.
They begin to understand the feeling of suffocation that Maggie is well acquainted with.
"S-Sure," Cleo finally answers. The two women stand up, and follow the doctor down the long, dreary hallway. Their legs shake and the room is spinning. Dread is a heavy weight on their shoulders. The doctor is rambling on about her brain activity and vitals, but the two can't bring themselves about of their yawning daze.
He makes a sharp turn and leads them into the small, dim hospital room. It's cold and Jenny wants to wrap her arms around Maggie to warm her motionless body. She somehow looks more defunct than before, a hollow shell without a soul. Her lips are parted, a tube forced down her throat. Her eyes are shut, and she looks strangely peaceful.
But this is what she always wanted, right? To be absent, far off in a dark abyss where the pain would be stripped away and the numbness would be replaced by tranquility?
Yes, it's what she wanted, and that's the only fact Cleo could come to terms with.
"I'll leave you guys alone," he says politely, clearing his throat and leaving the room swiftly. Cleo and Jenny stand still. The rhythmic buzzes and beeps of the machines keeping Maggie alive are annoyingly audible. They want to whisk Maggie away from the stale room, and find a way to keep her alive,
But the bluntness of reality comes in the form of a dismal hospital room.
Slowly, Cleo lowers her quivering body into a plastic chair alongside the bed. She scoots it closer to the bed, and desperately grasps Maggie's hand. It's limp and piercingly cold. Cleo doesn't know what else she was expecting.
Jenny takes a seat across the bed, and takes hold of Maggie's other hand. She drops her head, and rests it against the bed. Sun kissed locks dangled across Maggie's skin.
Her body trembles like a flame as she weeps silently. Cleo shuts her eyes, and brings her comatose friends hand to her lips. She kisses it softly and whispers a prayer.
This ones a bit short, sorry😔❤️
YOU ARE READING
dumb
Fanfiction"my heart is broke, but i have some glue. help me inhale, and mend it with you."
