Butterflies and Hurricanes

Don't let yourself down
And don't let yourself go
Your last chance has arrived

Best, you've got to be the best
You've got to change the world
And use this chance to be heard
Your time is now

~Butterflies and Hurricanes, Muse

The phone slipped from my hand as soon as I heard a dial tone. I barely heard it ricochet off the wood floor. My breathing hitched, and moving proved to be impossible. I was stuck in a trance. Blinking rapidly, I tried to clear my thoughts. Against my will, my right hand shot up, and I slapped my own self across the face. It stung. I wasn't dreaming. Damn. "Get a fucking grip, Jonas," I muttered to myself. Miley needed my help. I had to be where she was. I had to see her. A single tear rolled down my cheek as reality slammed me in the face. Miley was in a coma. She was hurting, and I wasn't doing anything. Worst part was, she had already given up. She'd already lost faith in herself. Without that sliver of hope, her chances were close to none.

With a sudden surge of inspiration, I leapt forward, and I kept running until I was seated in the front seat of my car. I punched down the gas pedal violently. The car immediately sprung to life, and I was on the highway in a matter of seconds. My fingers fiddled around the dashboard, searching for the volume control knob. I twisted it all the way to the right, to where music was playing so loud that it actually hurt my ears. Muse screamed in my ears, and I tried my best to let the sound carry into my mind, wash away all stray thoughts.

I turned sharply into the large hospital parking lot. My eyes searched for an empty parking space, and I finally found one out in the middle of nowhere. Killing the engine, I jumped out, and jogged to the main entrance. I stood impatiently in a line at the front desk, behind a tall man who looked like he could beat the shit right outta me if I tried to complain.

I sighed dramatically as I tried to tune out the noise of the lady at the front of the line babbling on and on about her grandkids. Really? She finally moved on, and the next person stepped up. Oh, Dear Fucking God! Could you maybe, like, hurry a little bit, people?

By the time I had finally reached the front of the line, I looked ready to pass out.

"Can I help ya, Darlin'?" The receptionist chirped with a semi-annoying Okie accent.

"Uh.. yeah. I need to know where Miley Stewart's room is."

She turned to her computer, and began to slowly scroll her mouse down the page.

"Miley Stewart, didja say?"

"Yes, Ma'am." I tried my best to keep a calm front and not loose my temper in front of her.

"Relation?"

"Excuse me?"

"Sweetheart, I can only let ya in there if you're related to her. She's in critical condition, you know." She smacked her bubble gum and popped a perfect pink bubble.

"Yeah, I know. I'm..umm.. her brother,"

"Oh. Go right on in, then, sweetie. Room 243. Top level."

"Cool. Thanks."

I practically sprinted to the elevators. It seemed to take forever for an elevator to ring, and that one was going down. I lightly bounced up and down on the balls of my feet as I cursed under my breath. I then realized that it would probably be my best bet to take the stairs.

Starting up the long first flight, I practically flew. Nobody else was on the stairs, so I didn't have to worry about running into anybody. As I started up the last flight, I could feel my heart racing, but I didn't think that it was because of the exercise. I was nervous about seeing Miley. I didn't want to know the condition she was in. I didn't think that I could take it. Especially since there was something in my mind telling me that I had caused this whole thing. It had been my fault that she came home crying. Maybe she got too mad or whatever and just collapsed.

My eyes began to sting, and I knew that tears were on their way. Walking slowly, I glanced at every room's number, until finally, I stopped in front of Room 243. Miley's mom and sister were sitting on chairs in front of it, trying to choke back sobs. Ms. Stewart glanced up at me, and I could tell that she'd put some work into plastering a smile on her face. "Hey, Nick. Thanks so much for coming. You can come see her any time, she's in that room there." She pointed across the hall. "And, quite frankly, Nick, I think that you're our last hope."

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and began to walk forward into her room. My eyes locked on the floor. I took tiny little steps across the white tile floor. When I was standing by the side of her bed, I glanced up to see her. I almost gasped out of shock. Her skin was pale white, she almost could have blended in with the bedsheets. Her pale purple eyelids stood out with stark contrast. There was a large red bump on her forehead, and I assumed that happened when she fell. The only thing that was keeping her heart beating was a metal machine that stood by her bedside. She had been right. She was just trying to fight an uphill battle. There wasn't much she could do, this was something that she would have to lose. (Can you tell that I'm listening to The Climb? Haha.) Seeing her just lying there, looking so vulnerable and weak, triggered something in me. Her dying wasn't inevitable. If she found the will to try, she could fight this off.

Sucking in a huge breath, I sat down, and lightly took her hand in mine.

"Miley.." I breathed. "You don't know how damn worried you've got me and your family. But, you know what? I've gotta feeling that you're going to be just fine. That's not what your bitches of doctors think, but my gut's tellin' me that this won't be the end." I paused to stare at her, hoping and praying for a reaction. "You've been through hell and back this past month, Mi. I know you're a fighter. You're trying right now to wake up. You're straining yourself trying to move. You are the most fucking stubborn person I've ever known. Knowing you, you're going to fight until you're alright again. I've got faith in you, Miles, I just wish that you'd have more faith in yourself."

Sucky ending, I know. Tell me what ya think!!