Bast sits at her bedside, his hand on hers as he just watches her, listening to the same beep as me. The noise that tells us her heart is still beating.
He’s stayed in here the whole day while each one of us has taken turns coming in to see and speak to her.
I let everyone go ahead of me until only I remained.
Coward.
I need to tell him.
“Bast,” I start.
“I can’t lose her, Kill,” Bast whispers. “I have everything I have ever wanted. I have my wife and my daughter, I’m happy but if I lose my sister, I don’t know how I’m supposed to just continue.”
My teeth clamp together.
“She looks so fragile,” He continues, “She doesn’t look like Savannah right now. I’ve seen some messed up shit in my life. I’ve done some messed up shit, but this is fucking haunting.”
I don’t know what to say so I don’t say anything at all. Not until he speaks again.
“What if she never wakes up? What if I have to bury my sister, Kill?”
“Bast, I need – ”
A knock on the door cuts me off before an older nurse enters, “I’m sorry, gentlemen, visiting hours are over. Please say your goodbyes for now, you can come back from nine a.m. tomorrow.”
Sebastian hangs his head, the weight of the world hanging on his shoulders. I watch silently as he says goodbye to Savannah and heads for the door, his steps hesitant.
“You coming?” He calls back to me where I haven’t budged from the chair I am occupying.
“Yeah,” I swallow, crossing across to the bed where she lays so still and quietly. She looks so small and fragile, the wires hanging off her broken body. The steady beep of the machine echoes inside of my soul. There is no color to her skin, the bruising and cuts a violent contrast to her pale complexion. Gently, I take her hand in mine, hers limp and cold. But I have nothing to say, no words that can take back the hurt I caused her, the tragedy I single-handedly made happen.
After a few seconds, I join Bast and we silently make our way from the room, taking the quiet halls of the hospital silently.
For days, Savannah doesn’t stir, she doesn’t wake. The machines are keeping her alive, keeping her heart beating and the more time that passes, the more fear and utter regret sink into my stomach. Grief is a powerful thing, pair that with regret and you have a poison with no remedy.
The doctors tell us to wait, to be patient as her body heals but the more days that pass, the more I’m starting to believe my girl will never wake up.
The world is going to lose a ray of sunshine.
On day five, when everyone says their goodbyes, I hang back, pretending to use the restroom and after they’ve left and the hospital empties out of visitors, Ihead back to the nurse’s station outside Savannah’s private room.
“How can I help you, honey?” The silver haired woman behind the desk asks, barely glancing up from the paperwork on her desk.
“Am I able to have an extra hour?” I ask her, my voice hoarse, raspy. I am exhausted, physically, mentally. There is nothing left of me, everything I have is laying in that hospital bed through those closed doors.
“Visiting hours end –” Her words cut off when she finally looks up at me. I don’t know what she sees on my face, “Oh honey.”
“I just need an hour,” I practically beg, “Please.”
Her head dips in a nod.
I don’t wait for her to change her mind as I slip back into Savannah’s room. It’s been set up for the evening now, a low light at the bedside is the only thing illuminating the cold space and the blinds have been drawn on the windows that look out into downtown.
For the longest time, I just stand there, staring at her where she lays, she doesn’t even twitch.
“I’m sorry, Tiny Dancer,” My voice cracks as my eyes burn, filling with water. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
