❄B59❄ No More Hate

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Chapter Fifty-Nine

Brayden's POV

No More Hate


December 14

I had two finals today: my chemistry exam in the morning, and my CSE exam in the afternoon. I'm pretty sure I bombed those ones as well. I was filled with too much grief during the exams to focus on anything other than Heather. I didn't even study for my exams, to be honest.

Esmond texted me while I was on my way to visit Heather again. He wanted to know when would be a perfect time to pick me up. I was supposed to spend my winter break at home, but now, I was having second thoughts. I don't want to leave Heather alone here. I've read online that people who are in comas can still feel the presence of those around them. Like they can still hear people talking or feel people touching them. I don't want her to spend the most joyful time of the year by herself.

I kinda wanna stay here, I texted Esmond, before boarding the bus.

Thirty minutes later, I was beside Heather again. There was a nurse inside the room with her, recording things down onto a clipboard. The nurse looked young. She had brown skin and thick black hair that was tied into a bun behind her head. When she saw me, she smiled. "Hello," she greeted. "I'm Paula."

"Hi," I replied. "Has there been any response from her?"

Her smile turned sympathetic. "Not yet, hon. Most patients don't come out of comas until at least a few weeks later. Don't lose hope, though."

"I won't."

"Good. I'll be back later to check on her again. Visiting hours end at six."

I glanced at the clock hanging across the room. I had an hour.

Once the nurse left, and it was just Heather and I, I held her hand in mine and started telling her about my day. I imagined she was alert and smiling at me, chastising me when I said I didn't study for my exams, laughing when I told her someone farted during my CSE exam, blushing when I told her I loved her.

But she did none of that. She was always in that same position; the only thing reminding me of her existence was the steady rise-and-fall of her chest. Her skin looked so pale. It had no color to it.

"I hope you can hear me, Heather," I said. "I don't want to feel like I'm talking to myself. When you wake up, we're gonna road trip somewhere over spring break. I was thinking we could go to California first. That'd be cool, wouldn't it? We could camp somewhere, and then visit Disneyland. I'm a sucker for Disney, and I'm not embarrassed to admit it. It'll just be the two of us. It could even be a date if you wanted. All you have to do is wake up. I promise you, you won't wake up alone. I'll be here, and I'll stick with you so much you'll grow annoyed of me." I tenderly ran my fingers through her hair before getting up. My phone was vibrating. Esmond was calling.

"You know you have to come home, though. You can't miss Christmas. Think of all those people you'll disappoint," Esmond said, after I explained to him everything. "Heather would want you to come home."

"How would you know?" I snapped. "You don't know her."

"But I know enough. Do you think she'd want you to spend your entire break beside her? Do you think she'd be that selfish of a person? Not that I don't care about Heater—I do—but I really think she'd want you to spend your days doing something more meaningful."

"And staying beside her isn't meaningful?"

"Brayden, she's comatose."

"Yeah, so?"

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