HM - Part Four

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Angel

I was so tired. I don’t know what happened, but I knew he was next to me. I wanted so desperately to answer him, but I couldn’t see him. I tried to say something, but I couldn’t find my voice. I felt him take my hand, and I summoned the strength to give it a light squeeze, so he knew I understood he was there.

“Please don’t die,” I heard him say. “Please, please, please.”

I won’t, I wanted to say. But I won’t make any promises. I don’t want to die, but I don’t think I have a choice.

I heard him talking. Was someone there, or did he have a phone, or was I purely imagining it? I thought I imagined it, until I felt myself being scooped up into someone’s arms. Whose arms they were, I didn’t know, but I thought it was him, by the clear scent not affiliated with medical personnel.

I heard sirens, and I knew what my sister must have been thinking at the moment. Just let me die… It would be much kinder…

“Come on, Angel,” he was begging now. “Don’t die. You can’t. I won’t allow it!”

I opened my eyes, but even that little effort left me exhausted. I forced my hands to use sign language, something Achlys and I learned when we were young. I fisted my hand, and put my thumb under my fore and middle fingers, in a sign language N.

Trevor was silent for a moment, crushing my hopes. Then, suddenly, "N?"

Inside, I beamed, while on the outside I forced myself to continue signing. I rested my thumb against the side of my forefinger. A… I put my thumb under my fore, middle, and ring fingers. M… I pulled my fingers and thumb back, tips against the top of my palm. E…

“Name… Name? Name! Angel, my name is Trevor.” It took him a moment to realize what I was asking. I inwardly smiled. So he knew sign language, to a degree. Knowing that I wasn’t alone, that someone else could understand me, made everything hurt a lot less.

I forced myself to spell out his name. T – thumb under forefinger – R – fore and middle fingers crossed – E – fingers and thumbs pulled back – V – a peace sign – O – a circle – R – fore and middle fingers crossed.

“Yes, Angel,” Trevor said, his voice soft. “Good girl.”

It was the last thing I heard.

Trevor RothWhere stories live. Discover now