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addict-with-a-pen-commissions · 7 years

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“Your Side of the Bed is Still Cold”

Summary: The narrator, Finn, recalls the tragic loss of his lover that left him completely alone.

Many modern tragedies begin with the words, “When I got the call…” I remember scoffing and flipping the page of my book, or changing the channel on the television whenever I read or heard it. It was always that same, monotonous, repeating phrase; “the call.” That was the case, however, until I got “the call” myself. It had been an uneventful Saturday morning, and yet I can still remember every damned step I had taken. I woke up at precisely 11:42, and proceeded to pad to the kitchen to pour myself a bowl of cereal. By noon, I had walked to the living room and turned on the Saturday morning cartoons. I waited for him to appear, but he never did. It was normal for Steven to be gone in the mornings, as he would be visiting a family member or meeting with a friend. By 13:15, I had gotten anxious. He would come home by 13:00, and if he wouldn’t be, he would text me! Did he suddenly not care for me? Had I done something wrong? With my heart in my chest, I lifted my phone. I had sent him five texts already, ranging in varying emotions. By the beginning, I was asking a simple “Where are you?” By the end, I had gone into a panic: “Did you die or something? Do I need to rescue you?!” Then, the device vibrated in my hands. Steven’s caller-ID showed on the screen, along with his phone number and a picture of us that I had used as his contact picture. With trembling hands, I answered the call and brought the phone to my ear. I knew what had happened before the voice had even begun speaking. “Pardon me. Is this Finn Richardson?” came a female voice. I swallowed back the bile in my throat as I answered. “Y-Yes, that’s me. And you are…?” “I’m a receptionist at the Grand Meadow Medical Center. Your boyfriend, Steven Thomas, is in our emergency room, and-” “-I’m on my way.” The entire drive to the hospital was filled with tears; so many, in fact, that I am surprised my car hadn’t been flooded. I had ignored the receptionist after she had said where Steven was. I still regret it. Maybe I would have driven faster and could have gotten more time with him. Still, the twenty-minute ride made my heart die more and more with each passing mile. When I busted through the doors to the emergency room, I was stared at for wearing pajamas. Did I care? Not one bit. I ran to the receptionist, tears in my eyes, and asked for Steven’s room number. “He’s in Room 12, on the left,” she replied, worry in her eyes. I had never run so fast before in my life. I was so close and yet so far from seeing my lover, and who knows when I would see him again? I sure as Hell didn’t know at that point in time. The first thing I saw when I ran in were five doctors, each rushing equally-as-fast around the room. Then, I saw the blood-spattered clothing, the distressed faces, and the nearly-lifeless body of Steven laying on the bed. His torso was completely bare, exposing deep lacerations that were still leaking blood. IVs and their corresponding needles were placed into his arm, the usual tape and gauze placed by the entrance point. His eyes were shut, and his mouth was being forced open because of the tubes they had shoved down his throat. My attention was then gathered to the monitor, where his heart rate was dropping faster than I thought humanly possible. Though I hate to admit it due to my embarrassment, I shrieked with horror at this. “Stand back!” a doctor ordered, shoving me back to the door. (I hadn’t even noticed that I had started to gravitate towards the bed.) “No, get off of me!” I screamed, pushing away. “I need to see him! I need to see-!” “-We are doing all that we can!” the doctor barked back, his white uniform covered in blood. Some of it had put on my pajamas, which had my tears racing down faster. Was this to be the only part of Steven I would touch ever again? Was I no longer going to be able to fall asleep with him beside me? To feel his soft breath on the back of my neck when he stands behind me? Would we never be able to stay up late together, and then complain about it that next morning when we would have to wake up for work? Would I never feel his protective hug save me from my thoughts, or hear him whisper my name? “We are doing all that we can,” the doctor repeated, still urgent but softer that time around. My chest had already begun to convulse, launching me into a panic attack that was unlike any that I had ever had before. The room spun, sending me crashing to the floor. Tears fell down in oceans, dripping next to my knees as I knelt there. Above me, I heard the gentle, yet all-too-loud, elongated beep of his monitor. I had been too late. Perhaps if I were five minutes earlier, I would have been able to hug you one last time. I will never know what the specifics of your car crash were. You might have wanted the best of me; for me to get back out in the swimming pool of dating, but your side of the bed is still cold, and it will always be. Nobody would ever be able to warm it like you could. I have no choice but to do what I am doing now. The things I have listed before are exactly what are sending me off this roof as I recall this all-too-familiar memory. I can feel the wind rushing past my body as I fall, blowing the oxygen that I refuse to breathe throughout my hair and clothing. I see the cement coming up, closer and closer as people make eye contact with me and run for cover while screaming. And when I look up to the sky, I see the last thing I will ever see: the sunset. With its vibrant purples, pinks, oranges, and yellows, I recall a faint memory. “It’s a beautiful sunset, isn’t it?” you had asked. “Not as beautiful as you, though, Finn. you’re more beautiful than any other sunset I could ever see.” “I’m not,” I had replied, probably blushing like mad. “Of course you are, Finnie. ...I love you. Always and forever, right?” I love you too, Steven. I love you more than I could ever learn to love myself. I will love you always and forever, just as we promised all those years ago.

“...city, we are here again with a breaking news update. Reports have come in that the man who had been standing on the roof of the Grand Meadow Medical Center has now jumped. Police have taped off the scene and called it a suicide. Due to the graphic nature of the accident, we will not be zooming in on our helicopter cameras. “No one seems to know how this man had gotten to the roof of the hospital. One worker for the hospital is said to know the motive for his suicide, but was unable to make it to him to try and talk him down from the ledge in time…”

#writing #car accident #depressing #commission #suicide #love

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