His eyes suddenly open and I jump up to look at him. Why am I still hoping for him to get better? The beautiful body on the white bed is shaking again. The shaking used to scare me, it gave me nightmares. Now it's gotten a little better. You can still see the shocks running through every single part of his long, muscled body. I decide to sit on the white chair again. Standing up makes me dizzy. Even though his eyes are open, he doesn't look awake. The eyes, which are brown, are wild and scared. They look at me like they want me to do something to help them. "I can't!" I scream desperately to no-one in particular. Tears are burning behind my eyes, but I refuse to cry. If I cry, it would mean it's over, that there isn't any hope left. But I won't give up, his body is still fighting, and so am I.
Everything about this situation makes me feel uncomfortable. To start with the room, every single item in there is white. It's very small, and there aren't a lot of items inside it, but the few things that are there, are white. The white chair, next to the white bed, on the white floor, under the white wardrobe, next to the white door. And most importantly, the body covered in white clothes under white sheets in front of me. There is a little nightstand next to the bed -guess what, it's also white- which is filled with white roses and little gifts wrapped in white wrapping paper. There are so many, that the floor around the nightstand is also taken up by them. I'll stop using the word 'white' now, it was just to get my point across. The only thing that has color is one red rose, right in the middle of all the - color that I'm not supposed to use - stuff on the nightstand and the floor. The weird thing is that I have no idea who placed it there. And I've been here the whole time.
I just feel so empty inside. Without him around, it has been hell. Maybe even worse than hell. It's all my fault that he's here and the guilt is just eating me alive. There is no way I'll be able to function normally ever again unless he'll wake up. And with waking up, I mean being able to move, breathe normally, eat, talk, laugh,... Not like what he's doing now. His eyes are open, but the only movement he makes is the shaking. I miss everything about him so much. I love the way he always feels the need to fix his hair, even when it's already perfect. The adorable noise he makes when he finds something hilarious is the cutest thing in the world. How he raises his perfectly shaped eyebrows when he's interested or confused. I could spend hours staring at him. His loyalty and friendliness is probably what I miss most. The way he used to make me feel save. And his little smile! He has his own, what I like to call, phile, photo-smile. Phile is an inside joke between us. Another thing I miss, the laughs we share. I could go on and on.
What if I will never experience his beautiful features ever again? As important as it is to stay positive, I can't help but think about the consequences in times like this. There are days when I feel confident and full of hope. But there are days when I just feel sick to my stomach every minute that slowly goes by. My heart is falling apart even more every time I lay my eyes on him.
I think it's been around three weeks since I found out he was here. And I haven't left his side ever since. Once in a while someone else would come and visit him, but they gave up after a few visits. There isn't any progress in his condition and the doctors say there probably never will be. So everyone left to forget about him. That's what I hate about people. They act like they care, but as soon as it gets to complicated or hard they leave. As soon as they actually have to put some effort into something, they're gone. Sometimes it annoys me so much tha...
My thoughts get interrupted by a group of doctors and nurses storming through the white - couldn't help but use the word again - door and touching the buttons on the machines attached to the man in front of me. "Two more on this side, Tanya, we need two more!" one of the doctors, who I believe is called Jim screams through the room. A pretty nurse, Tanya, runs to the door where a machine carried on a cart is rolled into the room. She looks panicked and her hands are shaking while she's 'adding two more', whatever that means. I'm just standing there, staring at everything that's happening in front of me. In the back I hear about 7 other doctors and nurses nervously running around. Here and there I hear some kind of order that I don't understand at all. "Doctor, we're losing him! Oh God!" Tanya screams. And those are the words that got me out of my trance.