The room is quiet except for the steady beep of the heart monitor and the hiss of the
respirator.
Tommy hates this room, hates this hospital. It smells like disease, like Death. Tommy's met
Death twice and he doesn't want to meet him again. The rooms are painted a pale green that
reminds him of that fake Easter grass that they put in the baskets.
Two beds are in this room. They wanted Tommy to leave but he wouldn't let them take him away.
They finally gave up. On of the nurses left an extra blanket and pillow on the spare bed. She
seemed to understand.
And then there's Merton.
He's paler than he should be. Tommy can trace the veins in Merton's face, watching the blue and
red river loop over and under each other. His arm has been set in a brace. If he wakes up,
they'll put a cast on it. The white bandages covering Merton's head, hiding the black hair that
Merton was so proud of. His eyes are shut, but he's not dreaming. That's what frightens Tommy
most.
The thought that his friend's mind may be gone.
"Don't get up hope," The doctors say. "He might wake up. If he doesn't within the next few day,
chances are he never will."
He's not sure what he'll do if that happens.
Travis and Tim went to far this time. They're in a jail cell at the local jail, awaiting
sentence. If they weren't there, Tommy would have torn them to pieces.
He still wants to.
Merton almost died. Would have died if some student hadn't walked by and seen him lying in a
puddle of blood. Merton got lucky. Some girl in a class below theirs happened to find him in the
corridor. She did CPR while another called the hospital. Merton wasn't breathing, his heart
wasn't beating. Who knows how long he lay their before he was found. Maybe he was found just in
time to stop any permanent brain damage.
Maybe not.
He's seen more of Merton's family in the past two days then ever before. Turns out that they
actually care. They're outside crying right now. Becky stayed in the room for a bit but he
could see that she was uncomfortable. He was Merton's best friend, he should have been there to
protect him.
But he wasn't. He had a dentist appointment and he let his mother take him out of school for it.
He didn't know that Lori would be sick that day, didn't know that T'n'T would be on the rampage,
didn't know that no one would give a second glace to Merton as he was beaten, didn't know that
this time they would go to far, didn't know...
The list goes on and on. Tommy knows that it's not exactly his fault but he feels like it is.
Feels that if he had only been there, he would have been able to stop it. Maybe not, but he
wouldn't have felt so helpless.
The only noise in the room is the sound of the heart monitor and the hiss of the respirator.
Merton can't even breathe on his own, might never again. The doctor's are talking to Merton's
family, telling them how Merton might never regain conscious. Asking them if they want to pull
the plug or wait. Tommy's praying that they'll decide to wait, just give Merton a chance.
It's been hard to keep from wolfing-out in the hospital. The smell of blood and disease and
death are stronger to his wolf senses and he wants to just howl, let out his anger. But he
can't, not unless he wants to spend the short rest of his life being poked and prodded by
scientists.
He doesn't want to sleep but if he doesn't, he'll collapse on the floor. So, climbing into the
extra cot, he looks once more at Merton.
Merton's face is so peaceful, so beautiful, so pale. He looks dead.
And, as Tommy falls asleep, he prays that when he awakes, so will Merton.
Please...
~End~
respirator.
Tommy hates this room, hates this hospital. It smells like disease, like Death. Tommy's met
Death twice and he doesn't want to meet him again. The rooms are painted a pale green that
reminds him of that fake Easter grass that they put in the baskets.
Two beds are in this room. They wanted Tommy to leave but he wouldn't let them take him away.
They finally gave up. On of the nurses left an extra blanket and pillow on the spare bed. She
seemed to understand.
And then there's Merton.
He's paler than he should be. Tommy can trace the veins in Merton's face, watching the blue and
red river loop over and under each other. His arm has been set in a brace. If he wakes up,
they'll put a cast on it. The white bandages covering Merton's head, hiding the black hair that
Merton was so proud of. His eyes are shut, but he's not dreaming. That's what frightens Tommy
most.
The thought that his friend's mind may be gone.
"Don't get up hope," The doctors say. "He might wake up. If he doesn't within the next few day,
chances are he never will."
He's not sure what he'll do if that happens.
Travis and Tim went to far this time. They're in a jail cell at the local jail, awaiting
sentence. If they weren't there, Tommy would have torn them to pieces.
He still wants to.
Merton almost died. Would have died if some student hadn't walked by and seen him lying in a
puddle of blood. Merton got lucky. Some girl in a class below theirs happened to find him in the
corridor. She did CPR while another called the hospital. Merton wasn't breathing, his heart
wasn't beating. Who knows how long he lay their before he was found. Maybe he was found just in
time to stop any permanent brain damage.
Maybe not.
He's seen more of Merton's family in the past two days then ever before. Turns out that they
actually care. They're outside crying right now. Becky stayed in the room for a bit but he
could see that she was uncomfortable. He was Merton's best friend, he should have been there to
protect him.
But he wasn't. He had a dentist appointment and he let his mother take him out of school for it.
He didn't know that Lori would be sick that day, didn't know that T'n'T would be on the rampage,
didn't know that no one would give a second glace to Merton as he was beaten, didn't know that
this time they would go to far, didn't know...
The list goes on and on. Tommy knows that it's not exactly his fault but he feels like it is.
Feels that if he had only been there, he would have been able to stop it. Maybe not, but he
wouldn't have felt so helpless.
The only noise in the room is the sound of the heart monitor and the hiss of the respirator.
Merton can't even breathe on his own, might never again. The doctor's are talking to Merton's
family, telling them how Merton might never regain conscious. Asking them if they want to pull
the plug or wait. Tommy's praying that they'll decide to wait, just give Merton a chance.
It's been hard to keep from wolfing-out in the hospital. The smell of blood and disease and
death are stronger to his wolf senses and he wants to just howl, let out his anger. But he
can't, not unless he wants to spend the short rest of his life being poked and prodded by
scientists.
He doesn't want to sleep but if he doesn't, he'll collapse on the floor. So, climbing into the
extra cot, he looks once more at Merton.
Merton's face is so peaceful, so beautiful, so pale. He looks dead.
And, as Tommy falls asleep, he prays that when he awakes, so will Merton.
Please...
~End~
