Just The Girl (under editing)

Chapter Thirty Eight - Rock Bottom

Josh's P.O.V

Rosie was staying with me as much as possible. I was so glad, even when I had a moment like at the hospital when I was pushing her away, she still stayed in my house until I was ready. She knew I didn't really want to be left alone.

I was so tired, I really hadn't slept in ages, it had been a week since the accident and Sasha's condition remained the exact same. She wasn't waking up.

I was hanging onto a tiny thread of hope that she would, but it was looking worse and worse as the days past. The doctors said that the longer she was in a coma, the less chance she had of waking up ever.

I was still going to the hospital every day, I rarely left, unless Rosie made me to eat or to sleep. I never did sleep though, just lay in Rosie's arms until the morning, and repeated the routine I had recently become customised to.

Get up.

Go to hospital.

Go home.

Go to bed.

There would be the occasional snack that Rosie had to shove down my throat for me to eat in there too, and the occasional trip to the bathroom, or a few arguments, but it was all the same. Day in, day out. And it was all happening without Sasha.

Just like in my dream. She was there, but at the same time she wasn't. When I reached out to her, she was never within my grasp, not really.

I was beginning to understand my dream, it began to piece together, just little bits here and there, but I was getting it.

I was going to loose Sasha. Like I lost my Dad. On the same day. In the same way.

But I was in denial, and that's how I would stay until I absolutely had to accept it. Because until I had no choice, I refused to accept the loss of the thing I loved more than anything.

More than ANYTHING.

No matter what I've said in the past about anyone or anything, this week just proved that even though I may love a lot of things a whole lot, I love Sasha more, and she's literally the one thing I won't live without.

I got out of the shower, flicking my hair and causing little droplets of water to land on most surfaces as I walked out of the bathroom with a towel around my hips.

As I walked past the bright pink door, just down the hall from my own, I got that sinking feeling I always get when I think of Sasha. Every thing in the house reminded me of her in some way. Every corner I turned, something just screamed SASHA.

The pop tarts, the teddies, the dolls, the colour pink, her clothes that were in the wash, her pictures on the fridge, the photos of her as a baby on the mantle piece.

She was everywhere, apart from the one place I wanted her.

In my arms.

I shook my head again, closing my eyes as I sat down on my bed and tried to shake that feeling. It made me literally sick to the stomach, I couldn't stand it.

My stomach growled loudly, but I ignored it as I got a hold of myself again and stood up to get dressed.

Rosie was downstairs in the kitchen, she was still in my boxers and a big t-shirt. She had completely run out of clothes now and she was gonna have to go home and change. I didn't mind her wearing my shirts or anything, but she wanted her own and she said she was fed up wearing sweats all day long. She also needed underwear, so she was gonna nip home for some more clothes before we left for the hospital.

Mom hadn't left at all, not once. They even got her a room and everything to stay in since she was there so much, but she refused to leave Sasha's side. Last week, I apologised to her. I felt awful about what I'd said, and I was so thankful that she forgave me. She wasn't even that mad in the first place over what I'd said, she understood that I was upset and she wasn't holding anything I said or did against me.