Chapter Twenty-Eight- Until The End Of Everything [Part One]

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 We pulled up outside George’s house and that’s when everything went from high speed to slow motion. Jake was driving his car containing me and George while Rich followed us in his car with Bryan. Everyone seemed to leap out of the vehicles simultaneously and though we sprinted towards the front door our movements seemed to go at a snail-like pace. Bex was standing on the short path leading up to the house, her hand covering her mouth, and even though I knew she was screaming I couldn’t hear her. A powerful overlord had hit mute on the world’s remote control…

 Speeding up the stairs, my heart thumped in my dread filled chest and I stumbled a few times in my haste to reach the bedroom. George was first, of course, and he hurriedly twisted the door handle even though we knew it would be locked. Bryan tried to pull him to the side but George brushed him off, instead beginning to throw his entire bodyweight at the door.

 Eventually it gave in and we all surged forward.

 And then sound returned to the world.

 “Oh my fucking god!”

 “Someone call a fucking ambulance! Now!”

 “Bryan, help me get him down!”

 “Matty! Matty, oh my- oh my god!”

 Everyone was frantic and their shrieks filled the air. Meanwhile I was frozen, staring at my brother as he slowly swung back and forth. I could see how much planning he’d put into this, the supporting additions he’d attached to the curtain rail to make sure it was strong; nothing was allowed to go wrong. The slight sway of his body became adopted by a crude hallucination in my mind as I tried to kid myself that he was still awake, still fighting.

 Bryan threw me to the side as he ran past me, up to the body where George held Matt’s legs still and Bryan pulled at the rope in a maniacal fashion. Rich was staring at our brother with wide, deranged eyes and I wondered if any of us would recover from this moment. I could just imagine being haunted with this image for the rest of my life, the sight tainting every memory I could ever try and create.

 What was the point in recovering now?

 Oh god, I’m so fucking selfish

 Physically flinching as I mentally slapped myself, I lunged forward to aid the others in getting Matt down. Although my actions were probably more of a hindrance than a help, we soon had Matt laid down in George’s arms. Rich rushed forward and began to feel for a pulse while we listened to Bex screaming hysterically down the phone for emergency aid. In all the confusion the pungent smell that filled the room had escaped my notice, but once I caught the scent I realised that Matt had been sick somewhere in the room. Pushing Matt’s legs off of mine, I stood up and started searching. It didn’t take long to find the empty medicine container.

 Rich was some kind of a medical genius in comparison to the rest of us and he started administering CPR while everyone else waited and helplessly observed. Matt’s weak pulse meant that he could be taken to hospital, so when the ambulance members arrived I pressed the medicine container into the hands of the nearest stranger and off George went with his brother. The rest of us promised to follow.

 Allowing them a short head start was torture, but we were soon following in two separate cars. Bex took George’s place in Jake’s car this time and her high vocals only added to the commotion that ensued: our impatience to get to the hospital was a cost to Jake’s driving. As we sped through at least two red lights and overtook any number of dawdling drivers, I prayed to all the gods that we might arrive in one piece.

 The nearest main hospital was between our town and the next, so it didn’t take too long to arrive. I found the emptiness of the car park somewhat reassuring- surely that would mean more people could care for Matt rather than for other casualties? The kid meant so much to me that I would pay for every doctor in the world to be on his case, helping him come back to us…

 In the hospital waiting room we were silent. The only sounds were staff members rustling papers behind the main counter, an overly loud ticking clock, and the sounds of George yelling somewhere in the near distance- angry that he had been separated from his brother even though it meant Matt could be treated.

 I sent a text to my mother and then we waited.

 Time was passing far too slowly for my liking. Once again the pace at which the world moved was working against me, and I found the tense atmosphere to be suffocating. It didn’t take long for my arms to start violently shaking again, though I tried not to bring too much attention to it. Every bit of energy in the hospital needed to be focused on saving Matt, that was the only way he was going to survive. I willed him to live.

 Was this all my fault?

 Before I could continue my anxious thinking, Ms Foster burst in through the spacious entrance to the hospital and sped past us. From her somewhat smart attire I guessed she had been working. Obviously her attention was solely focused on getting to her sons, so none of us attempted to distract her.

A little while later my mother arrived.

 A little while later we were still waiting.

 And then came the blood curdling scream that only a mother can have for her child…

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