Under the Influence

Chapter Sixteen: How to Save a Life

No matter how far I paced up and down the hallway in the bustling hospital or how many times Hunter assured me that Scott would be fine, I couldn’t help but feel anxious.

   I was so disoriented at that point I couldn’t tell if this was all really happening or if it was just part of a dream—a bad, bad dream—but lying to yourself never works. In the back of my mind, I knew that Scott was either dead, alive, or still unconscious—I hoped it was one of the latter two options because the first didn’t at all appeal to me—but the primary focus of my thoughts consisted of why and how.

   Why did Scott try to kill himself? How did we even end up here, in a hospital of pestilence and death? So basically this hospital housed two of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. I hated it here already.

   But then I realized I knew the answer to the second question—how we all ended up in this dull, dingy hospital. I hadn’t really remembered what happened from the time found Scott on the bathroom floor to now until suddenly, the entire collection of those lost memories came flooding back to me so fast I thought I was going to get whiplash for a second there.

   After finding Scott lying on the bathroom floor with pills in one hand and an empty bottle of vodka nearby, I did the one thing I could think of: I called 911. I relayed my emergency to them and they informed me that an ambulance would arrive shortly. My knowledge of CPR or any sort of life-saving mechanisms were limited to whatever I learned in high school, up until tenth grade when I ceased taking Gym, which was next to nothing. I did, however, know how to check if someone has a pulse or is breathing, both of which I tried on Scott. He had a definite pulse and his breathing was steady, much to my relieved surprise.

   The paramedics whisked Scott into the ambulance as I was asked a few simple questions, all of which I numbly answered. Half the time I had to ask people to repeat what they just said because my mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of my brother and his ill-fated suicide attempt to have heard the first time. They were very understanding about it, though, and for that I was thankful.

   That was when I made my second phone call—but this time I dialled Hunter’s number. I didn’t exactly know why I phoned Hunter. I guess I was scared and worried and just needed someone to get me through this. I certainly couldn’t handle it all on my own. I didn’t have anyone else, and I guess that despite the fact that last time Hunter and I saw each other it ended in the most disastrous way possible, he still came to help in my desperate time of need. And that was when I remembered why we were friends in the first place—I could always count on him.

   Fast forward a while and Hunter and I were still sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chairs in front of my brother’s hospital room. Well, Hunter was sitting. I was still pacing, wondering when they’d finally let us see him.

   It was a devastating thing, just the thought of life without Scott. He was the one constant in my life. He was there when Mom and Dad died, whenever I needed help with my homework or simply if I wanted to talk to someone. I couldn’t remember a time when Scott wasn’t around, either to be a pain in the neck older brother or a shoulder to cry on, because there wasn’t one. He was always there, whether I wanted him to be or not. And now, thinking that he might not be, it made tears well up in my eyes until they eventually spilled. My vision blurred and I attempted frenetically to wipe them away with my sleeve, but to no avail.

   And that was when the cold-hearted truth set in—if Scott was gone, I’d be all alone. I wouldn’t have any family left.

   I’d be completely alone in the world for the very first time, and the prospect frightened me.

   More tears rolled down my face until they came at a pace that could only be considered as torrential. I didn’t think anyone seemed to notice my sudden break-down, except Hunter. Lots of people cried in hospitals every day. I was no different.