In these Ever-changing Days

Shadows fill an empty heart As friendships are fading, From all the things that we are But are not saying. Can we see beyond the scars And make it to the dawn?

I never liked the smell of piss and hand sanitizer; but that was the ICU.

I really didn’t want to get used to that smell either. How long was I going to sit in that empty waiting room?

It may have been packed with people; but something about their quite whispers and silent tears made it empty.

It had been a while since I’ve seen her face. Could have it been the last too?

The last time I talked to her we fought. Of course we did.

Now my anger and fear escalated. I was scared for her and I was angry at myself. The last awful words I told her killed me. I didn’t want to end it by saying that. But I did. I told her:

 

 

“So have a good life…Besides you can talk s**t about me to your new friends okay?”

No one deserves a high school fight ending; not after the years we spent in ecstasy and memories. 

Now I sit here crying, hoping, dreaming to see her walk through those doors and smile at me; and just me. She was my second sister and I loved her; I still do.

But after our fight we moved on. Well she did. I wondered to myself all the time if she even cried once.

I try to hide my pain from every gulp I take.

I can’t forget last night’s phone call from her mother. I was surprised that she would even call me.

It happened to fast I could hardly digest it.

Highway Nine had become a murder scene in a matter of seconds; and she was thrown right in the middle. It was unclear if the driver was under the influence; but at the moment I didn’t want to know, I didn’t care. I wanted to see her, or whatever was left of her.

 

I looked up at the TV in the waiting room. It seemed like the only thing it was entertaining was itself. I glanced at my clock it was 2:48 am.

I laid my head down on my jacket; which was on the waiting room table. I closed my eyes and thought of her. All the memories we shared.

I remember when I first meet her.

It was forth grade and I went to get my backpack which was on a pile in the corner. I see a girl picking hers up. I remember what she looked like. Long light brown hair in two sloppy pig tails; and her red shirt with a crab on it that said “I’m a Crabby!”  I remember looking down at her feet and looking at her PowerPuff Girls shoes.

I shrugged and pushed her out of my way. She cried, I felt bad and I picked her up. Then bam friendship was formed. It would stay like that for nine years. Until boys and high school go in between us. It tarred us apart like an owl on a small rabbit.

I dreamed about when a boy broke her heart and I held her close in that hallway.

In my dream I recalled the phone calls we used to have in elementary. It was about silly websites and where we were going to be in ten years. I wonder what I would say if I told myself this was your future. I would laugh and say

 

 

“Never...”

Now I am have no one and don’t know what happen to us.

Was it jealously or was it just life? I am still not sure which one tore us up.

She was going to be my Brides Maid. She was going to babysit my kids. We had it all planned out.

It was all done.

I woke up to a pat on my shoulder. I gazed up and saw her doctor. A deep sinking feeling overwhelmed me.

“Yes Doctor? What is it? Will she be okay?” I asked him nervously.

He shuffled his papers and looked at me. “Do you want to see her?” he said over his glasses.

“Yes! Yes!” I said getting up quickly. “What room?” I asked him as I bit my lower lip. I had bit it so much it had become a cold sore.

“Room 219.” He said and walked off.

I fast walk down the hall and look at the big word above the swinging doors. It read:

“Burn ICU - Burn Unit Critical Care.”

I rubbed my hands in hand sanitizer and opened the doors to the Burn Unit.

 

As I walk down the ICU I look down. I don’t want to gaze into the rooms. It was all too depressing and all too familiar. I remember walking down these same halls into my dad’s room. His necks brace and wired open face gave me nightmares to this day.

He never changed after his crash; but I was determined to change myself after he got out. I wanted to learn to say how I felt. Maybe I told my friend too much of how I felt. Now I was really regretting on what I said to her.

“Room 219 – R. S.” It read on a card outside her door. It was the moment of truth.

I saw her lying on her bed.

We made eye contact. We both cried for each other.

Author's Note

This is a real story.
In a way...
I miss her.