Rhythm
The beep, beep, beep of the heart monitor, in reality, gave me no hope of seeing any real signs of life from my one true love. Her beautiful brown hair still fell in front of her equally beautiful brown eyes, except they were closed now, and she wasn't moving.
Her shallow breathing forced me to breathe deeper; struggling, calming breaths, because I would not scream at the top of my lungs, and I really didn't want to cry.
In, out, in, out; rhythmic breathing, in time with the harsh, robotic sounds of her beeping heart.
I don't blame her partner, not really.
I get out of my chair, heavy on my feet, and trace the bandages plastered to her temple, caress her cheek.
Three more determined, lung shattering breaths.
I don't blame her partner, not really...but help is supposed to come when you call.
I grab her hand as I focus purely on the beep, beep, beep of the heart monitor, and the rhythmic in, out, in, out, of my breath, but my glasses start to fog up with tears anyway.
THE END