Metal Chains {Dylan O'Brien}

Chapter 19

My breath stopped in my throat. I never had time to decide if it was from shock, excitement, relief, or all three because I was standing too soon. I was breathing too fast, pacing, walking three steps forward, three steps back, three steps forward, three steps back. I didn't say anything and all I could hear is my breathing and footsteps. Turning towards him, I pressed my fingers to my mouth and looked at him.

"Dylan, how long have you known?" My hands clasped together. "How long have you–" I stop short.

Did he think he could hide this from me? Just break up with me so that I wouldn't find out? Has he known all this time and didn't tell me out of fear, or even worse, pity? I felt sick to my stomach. "Dylan, look at me!" I shouted as he stood up, eyes remaining unfocused on my face. I stepped towards him and growled, "Answer the question." while looking at his face. His eyes finally met mine as he answered.

"I've known for three weeks."

And then my hands were impacting with his chest, pushing him with all my power. "Did you think you could keep this from me?!" I shoved him again, and again, until he grabbed my arms to stop it. "Calm down." is all he said, but I continued struggling against him until my energy ran out and I sank onto his chest, letting tears soak his shirt. "How could you keep that from me?" I whispered. "I thought we told each other everything, Dylan. I thought... I thought..." I trailed off, unable to find the words to say. He kissed my hair and sighed.

"I was afraid... of the strain it would put on our relationship if I moved away. We were on the phone and you were talking about how hard it was to be away from me. This last trip was only a couple days, Katy. If I move to Atlanta, I will be gone for months at a time. I don't know if we can handle that right now, if you can handle it."

I backed up slowly. Pity. He lied to me out of pity. My saliva felt thick in my mouth as I placed a hand over my lips and looked at the ground. But then, I grabbed him by the arms and looked at his face. "You should have had faith that we would have found a way." I whispered. Looking straight into his eyes, I touched his face, feeling the smoothness of his skin. "We always found a way." I told him. My fingers fell from his cheek, but he didn't say anything, just looked down with a deep frown plastered onto his face. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.

"Goodbye Dylan."

I am staring at the ceiling. My body felt numb and my stomach was in knots, but all I could do is think about him. Was he missing me too? Did his chest feel as empty as mine did? Or was he happy to get rid of me? Was he out with his guy friends celebrating his singularity? Groaning, I pushed myself into sitting position. Were his own thoughts driving him as crazy as mine were? So many questions that I would never get to know the answer to. So many details that I'd never get to know about him.

So many "I love you's" that I never got to say.

My chest felt heavy but empty all at once, and I didn't know how to stop it. When the door opened, I didn't move. "Katy, we have to go!" Tristan was yelling at me. I sat up quickly, not prepared for the loudness of his voice. "What's going on?" I asked, startled. "It's mom, come on!" He sprinted down the stairs with me at his heels. It felt like my legs wouldn't move fast enough. I was in my pajamas and my hair was pulled up, but mom would not care what I look like when she wakes up.

Soon, we were all piled in the car and Matt was driving fast, too fast. "Slow down." I softly said. "We want to be alive when she wakes up." I said with a small laugh. Everyone got quiet, making the smile fall from my lips. "You didn't tell her." Matt said to Tristan. It was a statement, not a question, and my frown deepened when he said it. "What do you mean? She is waking up, isn't she?" I leaned forward in my seat with anticipation. Matt looks at me through the rearview mirror.

"No... Katy, she's not waking up."

Darkness. My hands were shielding me from light and the rest of the world. We'd been in the hospital for three hours. Dad was already getting on the quickest flight there, but it wasn't fast enough. I lifted my head from my hands and looked at the other people sitting in the waiting room chairs. An elderly man was across from me, sleeping. Next to him, there was a younger girl— possibly his daughter, reading a book. Before I could put my head in my hands again, I saw a group of doctors walking toward us. Quickly, I woke up my brothers before they reached us.

"Kristen Enderson?"

We all stood, and my brothers grabbed my hands from each side of me. The doctor standing closes to us looks at all of us individually and speaks with sensitivity. "I'm so sorry, we did all that we could..." Immediately, I break down to my knees. Someone was screaming, a terrible screech of grief and pain. The doctor was talking still, but I couldn't hear him. I realize that it is me screaming.