Gray
(OP- 2/11/13)
...
The monitor kept up its steady pace, never wavering from its continuing spikes. Dull green eyes glanced up at it, then back down to the girl in front of him, her large chest rising and falling slowly. It was as if she was simply sleeping...
What a pitiful dream that was.
Behind her visitor, the foreign sound of laughter issued from a small television. A family was visiting a man who the boy assumed to be their grandfather, the sitcom entertaining a young schoolgirl. The congregation received a glare from their fellow visitor. Only he little girl noticed this returning a smile, a smile to the strange, omnipresent teenager. He gave her the cold shoulder, returning his full attention back to the girl and her motionless features.
Auburn hair, pale skin, full figure...
All being wasted because of him.
She had always had a short attention span, jumping from one topic to the next without a moment's notice. It was a remarkable feat for her to focus on any one thing and that thing only for any amount of time, possibly explaining why he had been so caught up in the moment, watching her, her attention focused on him and only him as she walked, not seeing until it was to late.
He doubted that she had seen- two tons of metal designated by God to change her life.
He hadn't.
It was all a blur after that- the truck screeching to a halt, driver jumping out in a panic, he himself breaking into a run, wanting to reach her side soon, sooner than him, seeing her, seeing her in that state.
Someone called the emergency number.
An ambulance, the sounds, faces, (false) reassurances.
The hospital. ER for her, tea for him and arriving friends.
Questions.
Accusations.
Guilt.
The doctor gave news of her slumber. Tears from others, silence from him.
Visitations. They had been every day. School arrived. Others cut back.
He stayed.
Days were almost identical to him now- home, school, work on every other day, hospital, home again. Homework was done at the hospital, next to her. Always in the same place.
Nurses took interest in this fact, remarking that they wished that their own lovers were that devoted. They had not been lovers. Merely... close acquaintances.
He never bothered to correct them.
He also never bored.
Even comatose, the girl fascinated him. He reasoned that it was her life's outlook- always positive- and the childlike innocence that she had refused to let go of.
He reached out, touched her hand, shifted and gently tracing the newly formed scar on her cheek, brushing away a few strands of hair as he did so. Marred beauty...
His fault.
The scar was just the beginning. Though most of her outward injuries -broken bones, bruised and cut flesh- had healed, what wasn't visible was worse. Head trauma. It had lead to her condition in the first place, bringing with it nerve damage. The doctors were not sure of just what this meant. They wouldn't be until she (if she) awoke.
His hand griped hers unconsciously.
His fault.
There was a tap near his shoulder. "Hey, mister!"
The little girl from before. She gave him another wide smile, holding out a fist. "My mom said to bring this over here, 'cause you always look so sad. And to bring this for your girlfriend! She's pretty..."
She dropped both a piece of candy and a flower into his lap, then took a step back, waiting for a reaction. He looked down at the items, then up at her and said a small word of thanks, slipping the candy into his pocket.
The little girl regarded him curiously, still smiling. "You're weird. What's your name?"
He returned his gaze to the girl, not thinking before saying that his name bore no significance to her. She stuck her bottom lip out, proclaiming that he was mean before her mother called her back, explaining that he was just going through a rough time.
A rough time. Right.
He looked down at her, hand still wrapped around a softer, petite one. The muscles there twitched slightly, but this was normal. An involuntary muscle reaction. That was all. No need for hopes to rise.
A frown worked its way across his features as he examined the flower, holding it up to eye level. A rose, he noted, not noticing the thorns pricking him until he saw the crimson blood droplets forming. His hand left hers, going to hold the rose in a loose chokehold as his fingers went to to his mouth, hoping to staunch the flow.
Flowers were objects that she treasured, one of the loves of which she had shared so few. This one would stay with her, serving as a silent companion until it withered in its little vase.
His unmarked hand brushed hers again, then returned to his lap with its twin.
There wasn't a point.
The irritating television finally clicked off as the family said their goodbyes, the little girl waving to him as they left. A nurse sent them off with her adieu before alerting him of visiting time's end.
He sighed, gathering his belongings. As he slipped his jacket on, he allowed his eyes to settle on her face once more.
Gray.
His eyes remained where they were for far longer than they should have, searching for that fleeting memory.
Her face remained as placid as always.
A pitiful dream...
He turned away, leaving both her and the dreams behind.
Maybe next time.
...
A/N- I bit different from my norm, I know. I wanted to try my hand at writing some angsty text with this. I hope that it didn't come off as cheesy...
R&R