They say time's a healer

Part - 11



Kerry

The events of today are hard to contemplate. For a brief moment I would allow myself to drift away into a daydream where they were never true. But then every time I look in front of me, at the lonely and lost soul that's desperately clinging to life, with the help of many machines that I am so used to being around, the realization of what's happened, what I have contributed to, allows the guilt to resurface. When I look in front of me, I can't help but allow the memories of Valentines Day flow freely to the front of my mind, except the tragedy unfolding now is down to me. It's my fault that she is lying there, unable to sustain life on her own. It should be me laying there, not her. But somehow, fate has taken a cruel twist, and no matter how many times I have come in contact with this virus, I have somehow escaped its jaws and it has denied me the same destiny. For that I am greatful, but the burden of guilt weighs down on me, making it's presence unmistakable. If only I could turn the clock back 24 hours, then I could change everything.

It wasn't right for me to have asked, to have told her to help with Randi. We should have waited for HAZMAT, we should have followed protocol. I made the decision for her, I denied her the choice. I never listened to her protests, that we might have been in the clear, instead I just ignored her, forcing her into something that is now claiming her life. I look past all the tubes and other various bits of equipment, until my gaze rests upon the heart monitor. Although its tune still displays a heartbeat, the gap in between each of those beats grows as time goes on. This can only mean one thing: that her heart is slowing down, that it is gradually giving up. Death is no doubtedly lurking behind the next corner. That thought crushes me, as it leads me to many unanswered questions. What if we had found her sooner? Would her condition be a better one than the one we are faced with? If only I had kept watch. I should have seen this coming. I knew that she was infected; I was told for god sake, yet I still turned my back, I never once went to check on her.

The consequences of my actions, or rather the absence of them, are now clear. Not only did I contribute to this tragedy unfolding, I did nothing to prevent it. It's my fault that she's dying. No matter how much I try to evade the guilt, it is always there. It's like a huge storm cloud engulfing me, no matter where I run, I cannot escape.

Despite all the protests that I received from Mark and Susan, there was no way that I was going to leave trauma one. It seems to be the center of this nightmare, the one place that decides the fate of those who have ventured inside. The first victim died in this room, it is the origin of the virus in this hospital. I have escaped the fate that everyone else has befallen to, escaped the clutches of the silent enemy. If there are any more victims to claim, I must be one of them, and I'm not about to go running. I'm too tired to run. Too guilty to run. I turned my back once on Abby, I'm not about to do it again.

I glance up at the clock, the hands display 2:07am. It's been just under 2 hours since Mark found Abby, just under an hour since we got her back. But in that hour, her condition has deteriorated so much. If it continues to, at the rate she is now, then there's no question about her survival: to put it bluntly, she won't make it. And I have to put it bluntly, because other wise I just won't admit it to myself, instead I would just try to evade it, like I've been trying to evade the guilt.

I close my eyes, wishing it all away, like I have done many times today. No matter how hard I wish, it just doesn't happen. I've never been one to believe in miracles, but right now, I'm praying for one. But time is running out, the clock is ticking, and I'm the one who set the pendulum swinging.

I open my eyes to find everything as it was before. I'm still faced with the same heartrending situation. I peer down and take her hand in mine. The coldness of death all too noticeable. I look up to the heart monitor, just to make sure she's still there, still alive. The jagged line passing across the screen is a relief. And for the first time I finally allow the raging emotions inside me to surface. Fear, sadness, guilt and anger, all rolled into one. And for the first time, I release the tears that have made my eyelids heavy. I silently hope for life to be restored, while silently begging for forgiveness.

A knock on the glass shatters the atmosphere. I look out to see Dr. Johnson in his HAZMAT gear. I know all too well why he is there. Third time lucky I hope. But then I can't really distinguish between what's better. Dying and being free from this hell, or living with the guilt and sadness that's taking over. Only time will tell, but not with just my fate, but Abby's too. They say time's a healer, but how deep do the wounds have to be before it's too late?

Sorry it's late again guys, but my internet provider disconnected me for ages!!! Well hope u enjoyed this part feedback very welcome. Part 12 is here too, Happy Reading.

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