The miracle
I sit next to you, trying hard to get the pictures out of my head, trying to drown out everything around me. But it will not work. I see everything at that fateful afternoon, when you ran back into the blazing remains of the ARC. And I stood, waiting, anxious, hoping for you to walk out again, but you never came.
I knew something had to be wrong, but only Connor had the courage to run back for yu.
And I remember, oh, I remember everything so vividly. So much, I curse my memories for it, letting me see it over and over again.
I remember Connor, carrying your limp body out, his gaze fixed into nowhere.
I remember Lester, shouting for an ambulance.
I remember Abby, running to your side.
And I remember myself, collapsing next to you, pale and trembling, not wanting to believe what my eyes tell me.
But mostly it's the memory of you that haunts me.
The way you looked, so peacefully, almost sleeping. And I remember the blood on your chest circling around the small wound. So small a wound.
I remember sitting next to you, not wanting t believe when Connor said that is is too late for the ambulance, struggling to hold back tears.
I remember noticing that Abby cried out, not very loud, a chocked cry within a sob, while she held her trembling fingers at your neck.
And all the while I couldn't take my eyes off you, frozen in horror to the spot, not realising what happened around me, still hoping that by some kind of wonder you wouldn't be dead, that you would start breathing again, even for a bit.
I remembered all the conversations with you within a second. I remebered everything about you, the way your eyes gleamed, whenever you spoke to me, or how you used to stifle a grin. Even the way you stared at me whenever you thought I wouldn't notice.
It seemed like ages, before the medic finally came running. He pushed me aside, but I didn't notice. I could only stay there, next to you, eyes still fixed on your unmoving face, resting against the hard concrete of the parking lot, while black smoke curled around us, separating us from the world.
And then I felt the first tear stroll down my face. I didn't care if anyone looked at me, crying helplessly by your body. I wept for you, whom I had lost, whom I now will never be able to tell how I really felt about you.
And then, suddenly, the medic called out for a strecher.
Captain Becker pulled me up, held me so I wouldn't fall, as I watched you being lifted and rolled to the ambulance.
And then i saw it.
Only a small movemnt of you chest, a small stir of your face, while everyone was rushing around you.
I cried out, mad with happiness and grief and love and hate for you.
I remember nothing after it; all was a blurry mist against the passing shadows of the world.
And now I'm sitting here, next to you again, while you lay in the bed, surrounded by strange machines, hooked up to needles, oh so many needles. The doctors tell me it is hopeless, that you will never wake again to see the world.
They tell me you've lost too much blood and your body reacted by putting you to sleep, shutting all unnecessary functions off.
They tell me your brain didn't get enough oxygen, so that even if you ever wake again, you wouldn't be the same.
But the doctors left a while ago, I can't tell how long ago. Lester came and left again, murmuring some words that didn't reach me. Abby and Connor and Sarah came and talked to you, while I sat, unable to move or look anywhere else than your face. But Abby and Connor and Sarah left too, apparently unable to see your motionless form lying in this bed, a cruel reminder of what had happened.
And even as I realise the sun setting again, casting dark shadows over your face, I can't help but thinking.
Why did you have to go back? Why did you have to help her? Why did you have to be so brave?
But I won't get the answers. Not right now, at any rate.
And so I sit here, watching your face as it rests against the pillow, covered by a mask, only the slow pumping and the steady beeping of the machines filling the room. Time moves around us, minutes and hours and even days passing by, but I cannot count them. All concept of time is lost next to you.
Now and then a nurse comes in, checking on you, talking at me, but I never answer her. All of a sudden, everything in this world seems pointless. I don't care what happens now, I don't even know how long I have been sitting next to you, or when the last time was, that I ate something. I'm not hungry, but I am tired, but I refuse to leave your side, still clinging on to the last bit of hope, locked away within me. Locked and hidden so well, the others can't see it. They must be thinking that I lost it completely now, because all I do is sitting here, watching your silent face, never answering their questions or reacting to anything they tell me. It must seem to them that my thoughts are miles away or lost forever, but I am aware of their presence. I just can't turn around to talk to them. My entire gaze is bound to your face and I cannot turn aside or stand up. I'm neither hungry nor do I want sleep, though I am tired, but I fear too much what could happen if I leave your side.
The others think it is hopeless, but I don't believe that.
It was hopeless, when Connor carried you out.
It was hopeless, when I sat by your side, waiting for the medic.
But you started breathing again. I watched a miracle happen in front of me.
And that is I why I'm still sitting by your side. That is why I hold your cold hand, resting it carefully against my cheek, sharing the warmth of my body with you.
I'm waiting for the miracle to return. I know you can do this. You can make it happen again. I know it.
And so I wait, noticing the hours passing by, turning from day to night and to day again. I talk to you now and then, sometimes just within thought, sometimes out loud. I tell you about my life, how it has changed because of the anomalies. And all the while, I wait for an answer, maybe even a sarcastic one, just something to show me that I haven't lost you. There is so much I want to tell you, things I never said before, not even to myself, but I can't. Not yet, anyway. Seems like I'm the real coward, because even now, as you lay in the bed, terribly wounded, sleeping so deeply that the doctors tell me it is coma, I cannot tell you how I feel. And so I rest my head on the bed, holding your hand, giving you nothing but silent reassurance that someone is with you, waiting for you to wake again.
As the sun sets another time, Abby returns. She looks at me with concern and implores me to go home for a bit. But I can't. She talks long to me, but I can't answer. She smiles, but it isn't genuine. I can see it. She tries to comfort me, to get me home, if even for a bit, so I can sleep and eat. Conor comes in after a while, even as Abby pulls me to my feet. I still can't talk to her, but she's right. It helps no one if I starve next to you. And besides, you would agree to that. And so I let her drive me home, her questions barely noticing. She tries to cheer me up, so I won't lose hope, but my thoughts are with you still. We reach the house and I walk in, like a dreamer lost in a painful hallucination. Abby follows me, probably making sure I'd do as she bid. I feel lost in this flat, feeling alone even with Abby by my side. She looks at me, her young face full of fear and concern. And she hugs me, the first physical contact to another human in days. Automatially I hug her back, but her whispers, pleading to be strong, don't help. She reassures me that you will wake again, and I feel she's right, but the memory of your body as I thought you dead, comes flooding back. And I feel tears stroll down my face again, sobbing helplessly, as I break down at least. I sink down to my knees, bending forward to bury my trembling body on Abys chest. The scream, locked in my heart when I caught sight of you, finally breaks free. A long wailing cry, filled with all the sorrow within me. It feels like I'm torn to pieces, wanting you to hold me, but knowing that you are not here. And that it is possible that you never again will be. And that it is also possible that you never wanted.
And upon all these bitter thoughts; they seem to swarm in my head like a bunch of raging wasps; I cling to Abby; still crying; while she sits there, stroking my back, crying with me. And it helps to cry, at least now they know that my soul is still alive, even if I'm feeling dead.
After I have regained control over me, I get to the shower, while Abby makes something to eat. I eat it without tasting it. She tries to lighten my spirit, but I just look at her silently until she realises that I will find no rest here. She sighs, stands up again and tells me, that if I won't sleep here, then at least I should try to sleep while being with you. Her face is caring and concered, dark shadows under her reddish eyes and I realise, that she can't sleep either.
And she drives me back to you; each meter lost is one meter closer to you. And I sit down again, next to you, taking your hand again, content with watching your face. I don't hear Abby and Connor leave.
And then; just after daybreak; even as I fear to fall asleep, I catch a glimpse of something moving in your face. I watch, waiting for it to return. And there it is again, sparkling blue eyes sliding open for a bit, looking at me. I cry again as I watch you, your gaze unfocussed, staring at me and I fear that the doctors could be right. I fear for a split second that you wouldn't remember me, or the others, or what had happened.
I whisper your name, gripping your hand a tiny bit stronger and you still stare at me, while I hold your hand to my cheek.
And you look at me, silently, but more aware now than just moments before and your fingers move slightly against my wet face. I'm trembling and you soothe me, just as you always do, even if not saying a word. Maybe you can't speak yet. But right now, I don't care about it. I see you, looking at me, tired and worn out and a faint smile hushes across your lips as you lose consciousness again. And suddenly all the questions in my head are silly and unimportant as I sit and watch you, more happy than I ever was before. Slightly I caress your cheeks, full of blonde stubble which I have become almost alarmingly used to. And I know that we all have been wrong. Even I doubted your willpower. And I have doubted my feelings for you. If even for a second when I was sitting right here, I was certain that you would die, leaving me and the others behind. At that point I felt my heart constrict as I thought of that. Suddenly my life seemed pointless, useless without you to fulfill it. But as your eyes plunged into mine, I knew I love you. I knew I always loved you, I was just too stubborn to admit it.
I fear no more now, I know you will be alright now. That you will be healthy again. Smiling I rub my face, trying to get rid of the trails of tears and the red shadow of crying. Silently I stand up, brushing my lips tenderly against your forehead and I leave the ward to phone Abby and Connor. The people who cross my path look at me like I'm a ghost. Pale and trembling, but smiling happily. My heart sings now, as I recall your eyes as you emerged from coma into the waking world of reality. I assume you first mistook me for Claudia, but right now, I don't mind. I am just happy, nothing more; that I have been given a second chance with you to make it right.
And this time I won't blow it. I won't push you away. And even as I step out of the hospital, pulling out my cellphone, I get a strange thought. And as I think about it, a huge warmth fills my chest, drawing out the memory of agony and fear.
You loved Claudia. But I am her in a "round about kind of way", as you once put it. And this being the case; if you let me, I will be your new Claudia, if it makes you happy.
I still smile, as I dial the number to deliver the news. Connor picks up, worried that the news could be bad. But they aren't. They are the best news I had to deliver in a very long time.
Today two miracles happened. The first one was you to wake again. And the second one is that I discovered that I love you.
I love you, Nick Cutter. I know that now. And I am glad I do.
Signed
Jenny Lewis
