I give up on long stories, so I tried a one-shot. It worked. So here goes. It's first-person and rather anonymus to those who don't know the whole story of Hitsuzen High. But I feel that this was kind of a success so...here.
CLAMP owns pretty much everything here except for the concept. That was me on a Trauma Center High.
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I remembered his history teacher saying that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. Some quote from a long-dead famous guy. But that was crap. How could I have learned? What could I have learned to prevent this from happening again?
"…patient is male, age 19… …suffered severe lacerations on the left side of his face… …glass embedded in his chest from the accident…"
Panic was setting in. This couldn't be happening, it had to be some sort of sick dream. I blamed everyone; that drunk idiot in the SUV, the EMTs who couldn't get him here fast enough, Chii, who was getting a ride home from music practice, I blamed God, politics, the high school music department, I even blamed myself, but blaming didn't do any good.
"…we have to stabilize his condition, he's going into shock…"
I threw myself through the doors of the ER, screaming at him to get it together, but I stopped as soon as I saw him. All my senses went numb when I saw the sheer amount of blood, his blood, his unmoving form surrounded by doctors in white coats. Not again. Not this again. I swayed, but stayed on my feet as I felt my insides churning. Not again.
"…vitals are dropping quickly, we have to…"
I felt someone latch onto my arm. It was Chii, she hadn't been hurt besides a couple of cuts from the broken glass; she must have been on the other side of the car. She looked like a wreck. Her long hair was matted and bloodstained, and she was crying, sobbing about how it was her fault and she should have just skipped practice that night.
"…he's flatlining, doctor, we need to get pulse!…"
It felt like time stopped. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak, I couldn't even breathe. I had to reach him, call out his name somehow, but the other doctors were leading me away, and the last things I saw before the doors closed were his face, the doctors, and the wailing heart monitor.
