Best Friend

What if. What if her heart was to stop and you didn’t even know? You thought she was asleep, so you just rolled over and went to sleep. You tried to sleep, but you couldn’t. Something just didn’t feel right. So you get out of bed and check her pulse.

There isn’t one.

My hands shake as I reach forward to check any other places that might carry a pulse. “Anna?” I whisper tentatively. It wasn’t that long ago that she tapped my leg to wake me up. It wasn’t that long ago that I had to open her medicine.

Reality sets in. her heart isn’t beating, and I need to do something about it. I climb on the bed, shaking like a leaf, and I try to begin chest compressions, CPR, or whatever they call it. My panic-stricken mind cannot think of it.

At first, I talk to Anna, telling her that she can’t die on me, she’s the strong one. Once again, reality sets in: this isn’t working. I try and call for my mom, but it gets lodged in my throat. I try and try again, afraid to leave Anna for one minute.

“Mom!” I scream one final time.

By the grace of God, she hears it.

Feet come running through the house and up the stairs. I let my mother take over and cry at my grandmother to call the hospital. She doesn’t know where exactly her phone is, only that it is downstairs. I thrust my phone at her, sliding to the ground. She just stands there, trying to figure it out. She’s not a dumb woman, by any means, but I was freaking out and nothing was happening fast enough. I shout at her and wrench the phone out of her hands. I quickly unlock my phone and dial 911.

“Hello, what’s your emergency?” the cool voice answers.

“My friend’s heart stopped.” I croak out.

“Where is your location?”

“343 or 348 or something like that on Oak Road. In Lewisburg. There’s a for sale sign at the end of the driveway.”

“Ok. We will send somewhere out there.”

“You have to hurry!” I plead. “She’s been having severe migraines. She has to follow up with her neurologist because the doctors said it could turn into a stroke. She had presented with the symptoms of a heart attack when this started two weeks ago, and the same thing happened an hour ago when she woke me up. And we called her mom, asking what to do and she said to take her medicine, which is something I can’t even pronounce…”

“Do you know what medicine she is taking?” the cool voice says.

“No, no.” I warble. The cool voice tells me to find it. I do and pronounce it to the best of my ability. Luckily, they recognize what I am trying to say.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about. An ambulance is on its way.” There is a pause before the line dies out.

I begin rocking back and forth.

Between the arrival of the ambulance, Anna being pronounced dead, the leaving of the ambulance with her body, the coming of the police, them asking their question, their leaving, all of it seemed just like it does in the movies: appearing in flashes of scenes, dark, the color from the emergency lights being the only light, the sirens being the only sound. I was hoping I was dreaming, hoping it was just a bad movie.

But it wasn’t.

Hours later I sit in a catatonic state, letting the adults handle everything. I just couldn’t do it. Slowly, I start to move. The world moves in slow motion. I grab my keys and walk out of the house. I get in my car and begin to drive away, simple as that. I was in Sunset when my mom noticed and called me.

“Where are you?” Her angry voice pelted me, nothing like the cool, floating voice of the emergency responder.

“I need gas money.” I say blankly.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Taylor’s. There’s nothing I can do. I’m going.” I say flatly. “I have half a tank and thirty dollars. I’m not coming back. Put money in my bank account.”

“No. Get back here.”

“No. I’m not coming back.”

“Yes! Now!”

“No!” I scream at her. “No!” I continue to scream at her. Finally, the phone just cuts off.

 

It turns out I had won the argument when I go to fill up my tank.

I replace my sunglasses and get in my car. I call Taylor and tell him I’m coming home. I’m coming home to him. I set course for Thomasville, Georgia.

Reviews

[The 13th Eros]

Oh precious Olivia.. what a heartbreaking story.. it just takes your breath away.. the fear and dread of living always on the edge of our mortality.. can feel the painful existence. Sitting here numb, knowing life is so beautifully fragile. xxx