Growing unease grips me as I place my fingers on his carotid artery. His pulse is far too weak. I check his barely perceptible breath.
My God, what is happening here?
"You're only slightly injured." I have no idea why I'm explaining this to him in such a demanding tone. Because it changes nothing.
How can he have such poor vital signs with only a few scratches? Even if he had a closed fracture, his condition should be better.
"Julian, hold on." Hastily, I dig my phone out of my jacket pocket and dial emergency services. He needs them, I'm sure of it. I provide the necessary details, then turn back to my friend. "They're coming, Julian. They're coming."
Suddenly, his body relaxes completely. His head falls to the side.
Driven by a piercing panic, I cradle his face in my hands. "Stay with me. Talk to me!" I plead, but he doesn't respond.
With a pounding heart, I position him in the recovery position.
I want to do more, but I don't know what. I lack the equipment to assess his health further.
"Why are you unconscious?" I ask in a panic. It just doesn't make sense!
Something is amiss here. His condition doesn't match his accident.
What happened?
Wait a moment. His stomach!
His cries of pain at the beginning of the hike, even though I didn't touch him, were perhaps not feigned. And at the summit, he didn't want to eat.
Because of stomach pain.
In my thoughts, I go back once more. Back to the moment when I discovered Julian at the accident site.
He clutched his stomach, writhing in pain.
Something inside him is causing his suffering.
I sink to the ground. The cold wetness now permeates the back of my pants, but I hardly notice. Because a thought consumes me.
Elina was right.
Julian isn't dead because I didn't save him.
He's dead because no one could have saved him.
Everything around me spins. The gray veil of rain thickens. A powerful lightning bolt illuminates the sky.
"Help," Julian whimpers.
Caught between my memory and reality, I can hardly comprehend what's happening.
Confused, I look down at him.
He's no longer here. Someone else lies in his place.
Elina.
Her eyelids flutter for a breath, then she looks up.
The best mirror you can look into is the eyes of the person you love. Hanna taught me that, and as Elinagazes at me, I suddenly know with absolute certainty that this is reality.
I understand what I need to do. And deep within me, I feel that I can do it.
