None of Mine

Chapter 9 - Unable

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* chapter music *
— Highway Don't Care —
Tim McGraw, Taylor Swift, Keith Urban

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Elvis POV

The 20th of August, 1957

Closer and closer, I neared the last corner. I knew. As I had seen each and every door number in the passing. Even so, it felt as though the hall kept amplifying in distance.

Sounds grew into a mumble, where no sound had any clarity. It was all one big hum of voices, feet walking, and my dad trying to talk to me. I couldn't blink as I rounded the corner with my hand at the wall as if it could support me—prepare me mentally for what was around the edge.

The gaze of my blue traveled each door, counting—68, 69, 70, 71, and at the end, 72. Dragging my hands across my face, I forced my legs to move where they didn't want to. Past the doors, I knew she wasn't behind.

I could see Vivian stop in her tracks seven feet away from me. Counting my own steps to make it seem less intimidating, I focused on the simplest of tasks I could to get myself to move.

Breathing in, my hand grabbed my chest as I tugged at my tee. Her door came more and more into view. It had a stable shade of blue, not at all comparable to her state.

Sal had a concussion, two dislocated shoulders, a bruised rib, and bruises, and she had bit her tongue as the car rolled. However—these weren't the wounds that left her at risk after the accident; what did was internal bleeding. If a little, they would do their best to get her in shape. If it was severe, though, they couldn't help her. As simple as that—they could not help her.

Widening, the window at her door grew in size as I moved closer. Firstly, I heard voices, none of them hers. Then I saw movement: the eight orthopedists, doctors, and nurses crawling her room. I only caught snippets of her bed as they flocked around it like my Mama's moving chickens getting scared by make-believe foxes.

A part of me couldn't wrap my mind around that who they were working on was her, my Sal, my dear girl.

Then I could.

Her gentle, soft curls were entangled, laid above her head, draping a pillow. Her eyes were closed, and her lips were spotted with blood and bleak colors spreading to her features.

My palm grasped at my hair while the other slammed and held the arch of the door to the extent of feeling a cramp. The small window, with tiny blue sheer squares, reflected my face back at me. Ice blue eyes collected water as I saw that girl before me—she sat beside me in the car, and I yelled at her to the depth of my living. Angered she hadn't told me about Wendell hitting her, we'd driven hour by hour home to Graceland. She had agreed to come live with me. And I'd felt the panic of not getting to look at her, craving to constantly check on her—even though she was right beside me.

Sal, turning out to become one of the most important people in my life, next to my Mama, never felt strange. She fell into my life for me to hold onto her.

Seeing the intensity of the past year of Sal running circles around me, she spun in my arms at the club. She slept on my chest till 3 AM. She pushed me to the pool. And I held my hand at her back as I led her through the streets of Madison—swung my ski pole above her head for snow to fall down her neck. I stroked her cheek tenderly as she cried in my arms. And we'd fought, over and over again—and I'd do anything to go back to the mansion fight to fight her for eternity if it meant I'd get not to lose her.

Holding onto Sal's thumb, I'd stroked her hand time and time again. I'd taken her in my arms as the world got too much for her—overwhelmed by what she'd been through. Hearing her tell the story from New Year's Eve the first time, I'd felt like a broken man—unable to help her. Unable to protect her. Why hadn't I been there? And why couldn't I have driven after her to Madison that same day she did—to talk it out? If I had, this wouldn't have happened.

Watching her hair that had prided my chest, the tender cheek that followed—my blue found the lips I'd never gotten to touch. She had stood there before me by that wall in Hollywood—with my palms resting at each side of her head. I was close yet so far away—giving me much of the same feeling now.

As my breath drew faster, struggling to get a hold of my driving thoughts, I saw that girl running—around and around a glass ball. Snippets of dark, soft curls came into view amid the grabbing hands dressed in white and green, tearing at none other than her—while I was stuck on the outside looking in.

«You would never run from me, would you?»

Sal, please don't run from me. Please don't leave me.

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— Read the author's note —
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You would never run from me, would you?
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That is what Elvis asked Sal when she arrived at the mansion where Elvis was waiting in January of 1957. After his nightmare of himself being chased and grabbed by fans, he saw Sal running away from him. And he could not get to her no matter how fast he ran.
So, I ask you...

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With that said and done...
1 ◌ Was Elvis about to lose Sal?
2 ◌ We looked back at memories from book 1 this chapter. Which of those do you remember the best?
3 ◌ And... Which new memories will they create down the road if Sal survives this?
4 ◌ What are your hopes and dreams for them? I can promise you, I have mine 💗

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Psst: Health/medical studies from the 40s and 50s was one heck of an assignment to understand.

(Chapter 9/?)
This chapter was edited with Grammarly.
New chapter of None of Mine, Part 1, is posted every week (Tuesdays)
Part 1 consists of Chapters 4-21.

None of Mine is in the process of being written, and it currently has 42 chapters.
The book consists of 4 parts, and you'll meet each as they get finalized.
As of today, the 26th of November, 2023, part 1 is the only one that has been completed.

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