Perfect Caina

seven

short but necessary.

Diana awoke to a handsome male nurse trying to talk to her.

“Miss,” He said kindly. “I’m sorry, but visiting hours ended over an hour ago. You have to leave.”

Diana didn’t budge. “I want to be here when he wakes up.”

The nurse lost the kind tone. “Only immediate family are allowed to stay.”

Diana didn’t look at him. Instead she kept her eyes locked on Caine’s face, trying to remember how beautiful he was without all the wires attached to him. “He doesn’t have any.” She said in a monotone voice. “The school is his emergency contact, and I am the only family who wants him.”

The nurse looked confused but gave in. He patted Diana on the shoulder and smiled. In a few seconds she was alone again, with only the sound of beeping monitors and Caine’s labored breathing to console her. She looked at the boy she loved, hooked up to half a dozen machines, watched as they performed almost every single one of his bodily functions, and cried. Caine loved power. He always wanted to be the strongest person in the room, not just physically, but mentally as well. Now he was the weakest, unable to do anything for himself. She knew it would be okay, the doctors had told her so, but she couldn’t wrap her head around it. She could never imagine this thing, this pale, deflated shell of a man, dependent on machines and other people, being the boy she once knew, the boy she loved.

She climbed up on the bed where he was laying, and positioned herself the way they slept together. If she closed her eyes and tuned out the beeping, it was almost like it was a stranger. He didn’t hold her like he usually did, and he didn’t breathe deeply, the way she liked so she could feel it with her head on his chest. He didn’t feel the same, he felt cold now, and he didn’t smell the same, he smelled like a hospital now, as opposed to his usual scent of peppermint and soap. She pulled up the blanket and cried against his chest.