Been Waiting For The Day...: An AureySparklez Fanfiction [DISCONTINUED]

Chapter 6

Above me, a ceiling fan quietly whirrs. The lamp flickers ominously in the corner of the room, making shadows shudder and jolt. I step towards the bed. There are various machines blinking and buzzing, all hooked up to a pale arm poking out from under the sheets. Needles are stabbed all over his greying skin with many different liquids flowing into his body. I rest my hand on his and recoil- he is icy cold to the touch.

"J-J-Jordan?" Silence. The other sounds become distant to the point where I can barely hear them anymore. I strain my ears in attempt to hear a reply. He remains mute.

There is a huge gaping hole where my heart once was, making me sink with every step. I traipse over to a lonely little chair and slump down. My head throbs as I silently cry to myself. Jordan- my Jordan- is gone.

A few minutes later, after my tears have left trails running down my cheeks, I slowly rise to my feet. I need to see his face; his face will remind me the fighter that Jordan is and that he will get through this like he always does. I make my way over to the bed. My heart beats faster but colder with every echoing step. Pulling back the thin blanket from his body, I am reduced to tears once again.

One long, deep scar runs down the edge of his face, narrowly missing the left eye. Each individual stitch pulls tightly at his skin in attempt to close the wound. But it's the other half that makes me weep. Huge blistering bruises cover the right hand side of his face- none of my familiar Jordan stubble poking out like usual. Like it used to. His eyelids are swollen shut and his bottom lip is pulsing with the blood flow. I slowly trace my finger over the scar, every ridge and dip making the very little faith I had left diminish to nothing.

I never thought we'd end up like this- one mourning over the other's hospital bed. I had seen a bright future for us where we'd still be besties right up to our last day as elders. Both with partners and kids of our own, we'd live in side by side houses out in the country. Our back yards would be opened out into one huge area where the children would grow up together, looking after one and another. At Thanksgiving, I'd argue with Jordan over who ate the last slice of pumpkin pie- and it'd always be him. But I guess all that is straight out the window...

I hear the door creak open and bolt away from the bed. Dr Kingston slips through, her clipboard still held close to her chest. The hem of her white coat sways with each stride, her heels clicking against the cold, hard ground. She looks at me with a merciful smile but the gleam in her eyes is sad and dull. It's always the eyes that give them away- the eyes never lie.

She lays a warm hand on my bare arm but I flinch away. I want to be alone with Jordan. She eventually coaxes me out the room, insisting we need to decide on 'what happens next'. Those words again- they make me weak at the knees. She covers Jordan back up to his neck in the sheets and slides back out into the hall. I have to bite my lip and hold back tears as she reels off his conditions from her clipboard.

"Serious bruising, internal bleeding, minor brain damage and oh, he's in a coma." This day cannot get any worse if it tries.