Impossible Love // Michael Clifford

Death: an awful big adventure

Michael ran in with the rest of his band a few hours later.
The doctors were trying to get my heart to start again. I wasn't dead but I wasn't exactly alive.
He cried on Ashton's shoulder.
He kept telling me to fight and wake up.
I kept trying to tell him I didn't know how to fight it.
He made everyone leave the room.
It was just me.
And him.
Like in that chick flick If I Stay.
And also like in that movie, he started a very not well thought out monologue telling me every good thing about me.
I suppose maybe I made him watch that movie with me way too many times.
But anyways.
He didn't shut up for probably ten minutes.
"Zivian." he sobbed. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. If I hadn't been such an asshole this wouldn't have happened. If I hadn't gotten so mad over those stupid little things this wouldn't have happened...you'd still be on tour with me..." he cried so hard I thought he might drown himself.
"Zivian I'm so sorry...but please, please hold on for me. I love you. I love you I love you I love you I do I do I love you."
He placed light kisses to my hand and forearm, as if that might help me.
"I can't fight any more." I said aloud, if only he could hear me! "MICHAEL I CANT FIGHT THIS I HAVE TO GO!" I started to cry, too. "I have to go and you can't stop me now. I'M GOING TO DIE!" I cried, falling to the floor against the wall.
I felt my fingertips go cold, and I guess Michael did too.
He started to cry harder as the heart monitor let out one long beeeeeeeep.
I was dead.
And there wasn't enough apologising that could possibly change that.
A doctor and a nurse ran in and started CPR on me; pumping my heart and using the breathing tube down my throat to try and get my lungs working.
But the heart monitor never picked up its beat.
And my lungs never felt oxygen again.
I was dead.
I was free.