Deteriorate

Waiting.

Mitch

Time.

What is time?

Is time just a bunch of numbers on a clock?

Does time exist?

Time is a man made concept of waiting for something.

For some, it's waiting for class to end.

For others, it's bigger things, like love.

Happiness.

Relief.

Relief. That's what I'm waiting for.

I stare blankly at the wall, still trying to process what just happened.

I nervously tap my foot against the sterile hospital floor.

I check the time on my phone.

10:30.

It's been a couple of hours.

Who knows how long the surgery will take.

I can barely keep my eyelids open at this point.

I want to sleep but I can't let my Scotty get hurt.

I told Kirstie that I ate, but I really didn't.

I haven't left this waiting room all night.

Apparently it could take as long as four to five hours, so the others won't see him 'till morning.

The doctors told us that they would have to shave his head.

He'll be upset, but that means that he won't take as long in the bathroom.

I decide to take a short nap and assume that they'll wake me up when he's done.

I put my hood over my face and try to get comfortable in the small hospital chair.

I close my eyes and drift off to sleep, praying that Scott will still be here when I wake up.

Scott

"Scott!"

"SCOTT!"

Huh?

Where am I?

"It's your sister."

I try to speak, but I can't respond.

I was supposed to have a sister when I was four, but mom miscarried.

"I know this is scary, but you're dying. I was informed of this because I am your guardian angel. I'm going to send you back to Earth, now. You still have a lot of things to do in your life. When you wake up everyone will be scared because as of now you are dead. When you get back, make me proud. I love you."

I gasp as I am shocked back to reality.

The doctors stand back with wide eyes.

I look around.

I have a breathing tube down my throat.

That's uncomfortable.

I mumble something but they don't understand me.

"Uh, okay. He seems stable. Should we remove the tube? The sooner we remove it the sooner he can breath on his own."

"Let's try. Get the oxygen."

They count to three and yank the tube out of my throat.

I gag and spit.