They sat impatiently watching,
His chest rising and falling.
They sat around the room in silence, all of them wanting the boy in the bed to wake up. They all had sins to pay for.
All of them needed to ask their questions; they needed the answers. But at the same time, they were scared to find out the answers, scared to find out which of them exactly was to blame for how far the blond boy fell.
Why couldn't he trust them? They all felt as though they had failed the blond in the crisp, white hospital bed. The gentle rising and falling of his chest was the only reassurance they had that he was even still alive.
His mind in turmoil,
His inner pain makes him want to recoil.
He felt like he was floating in the darkness. He still felt all his inner pain within his chest, his gut, his mind. He knew he wasn't dead. He remembered seeing flashes of white and hearing people talking over him. He distinctly remembers some medical terminology he didn't quite understand.
The pain he's experiencing inside makes him recoil and shy away. Tears form in his eyes as he wishes, wishes desperately for the pain to just go away. He felt trapped in a cage, like a dog on a leash, a small animal trapped in a corner.
Why was life persistent? He just wanted it all to END! He wanted to DIE! Why? Why wouldn't they let him? WHY?
They watch his body for movement,
Every second, moment by moment.
They never take their eyes off his body, looking for a hint of movement to indicate that he was going to wake up. Every second went by with the only sounds in the room being the beeping of the machines and the breathing of the occupants in the room.
Each moment seemed to drag on for hours and hours. Hands were being wrung, teeth grinding, fists clenching. All eleven of the conscious were tense and hyper vigilant, waiting, anxiously, for the unconscious blond to stir. They were waiting for him to awaken so they could let him know he wasn't alone. He could depend on them.
He hears them call him back,
But he wants to fall into the black.
Floating in the darkness of his mind, he hears them. They're begging him to wake up, pleading, and wishing. He doesn't believe that they'll be genuinely upset if he dies. He believes that they'll be upset that their emotional outlet is no longer in use.
He's tired of being used by them. He wants to break free from all of the pain and just fall into the bliss of death, where there's no pain. There's no pain, or chance of being let down, abandoned, ignored.
They sit in fear,
They've all shed some tears.
They sit silently through the night and into the early hours of the morning. They all have tear streaks on their faces from the pains of regret, anger, fear. None of them felt like they had cried so much before. The tears that had been shed was evident; not just by the streaks on their cheeks, but the fact that their eyes were slightly red and puffy.
They all glance at the elder blond when they see his eyes widen while still staring at his little brother's unconscious form. A second later, he looks at the younger blonds face and hope is evident in his eyes. "TK?" That's when the rest of them saw it.
The slight twitching of his hands.
He feels a tug, a pull,
No more hiding in this welcoming pool.