09: Those Three Words
The sirens are driving me insane.
I am sitting in the back of the ambulance, staring at the blood on my hands. The tears hadn’t stopped since the incident.
"Sweetheart, do you want me to disinfect your hands?”
I look up to meet a young paramedic's crystal blue eyes. He smiles at my sympathetically, slowly taking my hand in his. I sniffle as he gently cleans away the still wet blood on both my hands. They had already bandaged up the gashes on my knees from when I was pushed. They worsen when I was kneeling next to Zayn.
“When we get to the hospital, I want you to wait in the waiting room for me and fill out some forms. Can you do that for me, honey?” he asks.
I nod, agreeing. I hadn’t spoken a word the whole ride. I’m in my own little world. I didn’t want to face reality right now. I didn’t have a choice, though.
A machine held a steady beep, causing me to look up. The two men moving around the small space in front of me. My breathe catches in my throat as I watch them.
I know what’s going on, but I don’t speak. I just stare. Not knowing what to do or say. So I sit there as we arrive at the hospital. They move Zayn out of the vehicle quickly, not missing a beat.
I’m escorted out by a nurse. She leads me over to a desk, muttering comforting words. Although she was speaking clearly, her voice was clouded and muffled in my ears.
“Fill these out and then give them back to me,” she says with a smile.
I take the clipboard and stare down at the papers. I open the pen and fill out Zayn’s information in a daze. It’s crazy how I knew most of the answers to the questions except for a few.
I walk over to the desk and hand the receptionist the click board. She takes it and smiles sadly. “He’s in surgery. They’re going to try and save him.”
Try is the only word I hear. They are going to try and save him because he might not live. He might not survive.
I nod and walk back to my seat. When I sit down, I break down, not knowing what to do. I start to cry again. I’m surprised I even have tears left to cry.
It should’ve been me, not him. They should’ve just taken me and not him. If he didn’t show up, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t be dying, losing blood as I sit her. It’s not fair. I should laying on the table as they try and take a bullet out of me. He doesn’t deserve any of this.
“Annie!”
I turn to see Andy running over to me. I get up and meet him half way, jumping into my brother’s arms, sobbing into his chest. He walks us over to the seats and sits me on his lap, wiping my tears.
“What happened?” He asks.
I shake my head. “It-It was a trap. They tried to take me. They thought I knew something and they were going to kill me. Then Zayn came and stop them, but-but they shot him.” My lip quivers as I speak.
He hugs me, stroking my hair. “It’ll be okay.”
I crying into his chest, soaking his shirt. “It’s not fair.”
“Shh, calm down. I’m going to go talk to the nurse, see what’s going on. You stay here,” he tells me, moving me to the seat next to him. He kisses my head and then walks over to the desk.
I sit staring at the floor with blurry vision. I wipe my face on my sleeve, though it doesn’t help.
Andy returns and smiles slightly. “He’s in recovery.”
My face lights up. “Is he okay?”
“He’s still in a coma,” Andy says.
I frown.
“But, they said that once his blood count gets back up, he should okay once he wakes up. Just sore and stuff.”
I sigh. “Can we see him now?”
He nods. “You go ahead. It’s room 234. I’m going to get something to eat,” Andy says. He hugs me and then we go our separate ways.
I walk quickly down the halls of the hospital. I stop at his room and stare at the closed door. I gulp and then push the door open.
My breath hitches when I see his lifeless body laying there. Tubes up his nose and needles coming out of both arms. His skin tone is paler than usually, the color drained. It scares me.
“Zayn,” I whisper as I walk over to his bed. He’s hook up to a billion different machines.
“He’s doing pretty well considering all the blood he lost.” I turn around to see a nurse standing there with a smile and blankets in her hands. “He your brother?” she asks, placing the blankets at the end of his bed.
The beep on his heart monitor keeps a steady beat as I stare at him. “No, he’s not my brother,” I say quietly.
“Oh? Is he your boyfriend?” she asks, checking the bags of fluids hanging around his bed.
“He was,” I tell her.
She smiles. “You should tell him how you feel,” she says.
I look at her. “What do you mean?”
“Tell him you love him,” she says.
I smile. “He doesn’t love me back.”
She smiles sweetly. “You never know.” With that, she leaves.
I look down at Zayn. I run my hands along the cold railing. I walk to the end of the bed and grab the blankets the nurse left. I cover him up and tuck him in.
I take a deep breath, taking his lifeless, cold hand in mine. I stroke his hand with my thumb before letting go. I walk over to the other side of the room and drag the chair over to his bed.
I bed down and push his hair back. I kiss his head gently and then sit down. I rest my arms on the railing and slowly close my eyes. It’s been a long day.
I slowly drift off to sleep, but not before hearing a familiar voice.
----------------
So he’s alive. Did you guys really think I was going to kill him off?
But he’s all good, sorta…
Who do you think the familiar voice was at the end?
Dedication for the next part goes to the person who can figure out what Michael Jackson song I got Annie’s name from….
So, comment, vote, fan!
Love you guys! x ♥
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Mama, I'm in Love with a Criminal
Fanfiction[first book in the criminal series] I'm in love with the Bradford bad boy. He sells drugs and he's a hustler. He carries a knife and has a gun in his apartment. He's been to jail and I don't even care. He says he won't fall in love, he's a bad boy w...
