Rio's POV
I looked over Mitch, my heart feeling like it was dropping down a million storey building. He had a weird, blue tinted tube that came out of some sort of oxygen tank, and went straight into the centre of his neck. While he was having his seizure, the doctor's said that his windpipe and part of his spine had been crushed from being held down. I knew Scott shouldn't have held him down...If he hadn't held him down then maybe Mitch would be able to walk again. He could still walk now, but his movements were very limited. The fact that his elbows would take forever to heal up was one of these limitations. I ran my fingers through his hair, tears rising up in my eyes. How was I meant to tell him about Scott? How on earth was I meant to tell him that Scott died? How was I meant to tell him that I was the one that killed him?! I don't think it had fully sunk in on me yet, to be honest. I was the one responsible for his death. I killed him so quickly without even thinking about it. I killed him so fast. All I did was turn up that morphine monitor to, what, twelve? I couldn't even remember what the overdose number was. Me forgetting didn't make it any better, though. In a way, it made it even worse. I killed him with a stupid overdose without even taking a second to think about it. Sure, I asked questions, but it only took me around five minutes to do so. After that I just got up, put an overdose of medicine into his body, waited until he died, turned it back to normal again, and waited for the doctors to come in. I still remember every word they said when they ran in. I still remember it...The tears that were in my eyes started to roll down the sides of my face. I hated myself.
Mitch grabbed hold of my tensed hand and squeezed it gently. I squeezed it back. It was a miracle that he was able to do that. When he first awoke from surgery, his nurses said that he was probably never going to regain the ability to do anything again. They said that he was probably going to be paralysed for the rest of his life. He wasn't, luckily. The only thing that was bad about this whole thing, apart from the broken bones, was the fact that his windpipe was crushed and he was going to be forced to breath through a ventilator for the rest of his life. I felt awful. Why did we force him to go onto that ride in the first place? If one of us just stayed down on the ground with him, then he wouldn't have that seizure-inducing heart attack. He wouldn't have gotten so scared that his heart failed. He would be just fine. At the very least, Scott wouldn't be dead. He was probably depressed and never showed it, sure, that seemed like a logical thing, but this whole ordeal pushed him over the edge. It pushed him into a deep, deep pit that you couldn't climb back out of. When he saw Mitch having that heart attack/seizure, and when he saw him being taken to the hospital, he probably just wanted to end it all. That was the reason why he took that scalpel and cut his wrist open. He took that stupid blade, placed it against his wrist, and just cut it open. I still remember how he looked when he passed out on the floor. He was laying on his stomach, arms above his head, and his legs were all tangled up. When we were driving to the hospital, I had to hold his bleeding arm above his head to slow down the bleeding. I guess it didn't work, though.
I hated myself. This was all my stupid, stupid fault. I was the one who brought up the idea of going to the theme park in the first place! If I had just suggested that we went somewhere else, like to a museum of some sorts, then none of this would have ever happened! I closed my eyes, wiped the tears away with my free hand, and looked back at Mitch. He looked highly uncomfortable. He probably wanted to sit up. I grabbed the remote that was hanging on the rails that were on either side of his bed and showed it to him, as if I was asking if he wanted me to use it. He quickly nodded and weakly smiled. Despite him being alive, he was incredibly weak. The amount of morphine he was on was way to much. I would turn the dosage that was going into his body down, yet after what just happened with me basically helping Scott commit suicide, I didn't feel brave enough. I knew that morphine was just a painkiller-something to remove all pain whatsoever-but I was just too scared to do anything with it. Heck, I didn't want Mitch to die of an overdose yet at the same time I didn't want him being in pain either! All I wanted was him being, well, happy. I wanted him to be happy and free or pain. I had a feeling that wasn't going to happen though.
Ugh, and he just joined the drama club as well. A day before we went to this horrific theme park, he came running home with a massive smile covering his face. When we asked what had happened, he told us that he had finally joined the drama club and was meant to be going there every single day after school. I was so happy for him. Me and Scott both were. Now that he was like this though...That probably wasn't going to happen. He was probably going to just have to sit in the corner and watch everybody else perform. He wasn't going to be able to move around for at least another few years. If only I could rewind back to that day, stop him going onto the ride, and just stay with him for the entire day. I didn't really like roller-coasters to be honest. I wasn't scared of them, but they felt like an uncomfortable car ride to be honest. Sighing, I pressed down onto the remote button that lifted the back of the bed up. After a few seconds of rather loud, mechanical noises, he was sitting upright. The uncomfortable look in his eyes was...was replaced by sadness. Then again I couldn't blame him. If I knew that I wouldn't be able to do something I loved, for him it was drama, then I would be upset. Not only that, but he was going to have to have that tube in him for the rest of this life, as well as have to be treated like a baby or a toddler as his elbows were broken and he couldn't move his arms that much. He was meant to have his casts put on tomorrow. From the pictures of the casts that I had seen, it didn't look that good. His elbows were going to be sticking out behind him...Gee, it wasn't going to be fun.
I started to quietly cry. I couldn't do this on my own. I couldn't look after Mitch without Scott. I wanted him to be alive so badly. I wanted to bring him back from the dead. It was all my fault that he died. After he got his body checked to see what the cause of death was, I had two weeks to plan out his funeral. I never thought that I would have to do something like this. I never thought that I would ever have to plan his...his funeral. I never thought that it would be the first thing that I planned...I always thought that we would get married first. Not die first. I hated myself so much. I wanted to die along with Scott. Knowing me, I would do more harm than good to Mitch. I would hurt him more than I would protect him. The only thing that did stop me from grabbing some pills from a supply closet or going home and jumping off the roof of the apartment building was the fact that, if I did do those things and succeeded in doing them, the only place Mitch would go is straight back to that abusive Orphanage. And now that he has all of these disabilities...He would literally be left for dead. They would probably put him, while he was in his wheelchair, into this stupid 'ice closet', lock the door, and wait until he died a slow and painful death. I couldn't let that happen to him. I couldn't let him be hurt in that way. Sure, I would mess up while looking after him. After all, I wasn't a professional care taker, yet I could at least try to help him.
"Rio..." I looked towards the door, where the sound was coming from. It...It was Enis...and his little brother, Nug. I heard the beeping on Mitch's heart monitor start to go up. I quickly said that these two were family friends to him before inviting both of them in. Enis sat down my the chair nearest the door while Nug sat in the opposite corner to me, doodling something in his book. "Rio...I'm so sorry about what happened to Scott." I was about to reply when Mitch sounded like he flinched. Crap...That was something that I hadn't told him yet. I dared to turn around to face him. He was staring at me, tears streaming down the sides of his face, while his body shook. This was why I didn't tell him what had happened to Scott. It would be too much for him to handle. He already got told today that he might not be able to do much ever again, and that made him cry. I dreaded the reaction that he was about to have. "Did you not tell him what happened?"I stood up while shaking my head, ran over to him, and flung my arms around his neck, making sure not to touch his ventilator tube.
"I-Is my d-d-d-dad d-dead? What killed him? H-How did he die? What...?" His voice became hoarse. "Is he dead, Rio? Is he? What killed him? Rio?" I pulled away, ran my fingers through his hair, and shook my head.
"I can't tell you that, Mitch. I don't know how he died. I really don't. I'm sorry." I let my hands fall to my side, turned around, and sat back down next to Enis. "I can't do this, Enis. I really can't. It's too much. It's too fucking much. Scott's dead..." I moved closer to him and lowed my voice. "-Mitch's condition isn't improving...His windpipe is crushed, his spine is damaged, his wrists are broken, his ankles are broken, and his elbows are smashed..." I moved away again and let myself talk at a normal volume. "-And...And I just can't do it any more. I want to be with Scott again...I want to be with him so badly!" Tears started to stream down my face. It would be so easy to just end my life. It would be so easy to just run out of this room, find the stairs to the roof, and jump off from it. I knew that, surrounding the roof here, was a ten meter fence that had electric barbed wire on top of it. If anything, that would make this better. If I was bleeding and twitching while I was falling, then I had a higher chance of dying, wouldn't I? I looked back at Mitch. He was staring down at his lap, quietly sobbing out the rest of the water in his body. The poor thing couldn't even wipe the tears off from his face as his arms were in weird, cast things. I think that they were called Splints or something. What would happen to him if I died? Whatever did happen, I didn't want him going back to that orphanage. I didn't want that at all. Hopefully the doctors here wouldn't let that happen...
Scott's POV
It was weird being dead. Dying felt fine, honestly. I was with Porfirio when it happened, so at least I wasn't alone. I think Cam was in the room at the time as well, although I couldn't seem them that well. After the dose of morphine flushed into my body, everything tingled and my brain felt like it was filling up with hot air. After a few seconds my body just relaxed...I felt myself stiffen, before I could actually see my body itself. I was floating above it. It was so strange and surreal. It felt like a movie. Now I was standing at the end of my bed in the morgue, watching the doctors strip me of my clothing and place a thin sheet of cloth over me. In a way, I felt uncomfortable. For the first time I could see my body in the same way that other people saw it. My legs looked, well, burnt. The scars from the times that I burnt myself to relieve my stress. Apart from that, everything looked like the way it did in photo's. I wondered what would happen if I could just go back into my body and wake up. I knew that I couldn't do it, heck, I tried tons upon tons of times, yet it just didn't work. I spun around on my heel, walked over to the doors, and drifted out of them. It felt so weird to just walk through stuff. Being dead was just so weird. Once I was in the hallway I jumped up, drifted through the floors, until I was on the roof itself. Pressed up against the ten foot fence that surrounded the edge of the roof, was a small, purple haired figure that seemed to be sobbing. Was...Was that Rio?
I ran through the fence, spun around, and stared down at the face of the person. It was. Did...Did he want to kill himself? I stayed where I was for a few moments, staring down at my feet and being shocked at just how weird I looked, before floating forward and standing on the small platform that was in front of the metal wall. Rio made eye contact with me and flinched backwards. Could he see me, then? Could he actually see me?! I put my hand through the fence to place my hand onto his shoulder, yet that seemed to make him more scared. He fell backwards onto his butt and started to scoot backwards, fear building up in his eyes. I let my hands fall to my side and watched him in utter silence. I didn't want to scare him to be honest...I didn't want to scare him. I just wanted to show him that, well, I wasn't hurt. I wasn't exactly alive, but I wasn't hurt either. I was just a ghost. I wonder how long I would remain like this until I passed on. Unless I was going to stay like this forever. That wouldn't be fun. The only way that would be fun is, when Rio passed away when he was, hopefully, older, we would stay together in this weird, crazy ghost world. I didn't want to be left alone when he was gone to be honest. What kind of stuff would I do if he didn't end up being a ghost? I would just float around, freaking people out while they were sleeping. I probably wouldn't get any enjoyment out of it unless Rio was with me...He always made things fun.
"Scott! What the fuck...Why the fuck are you out here? Why the fuck were you floating?" I took a step past the fence and sat down. "Are you a fucking ghost or what?" He seemed more shocked than he was terrified.
"I guess I am. I mean, I'm dead. I'm sure as hell dead. Heck, my body is in the morgue! I saw them undress me and prep me to be cut open and stuff. Yeah, it sounds gross, but I'm not in pain or anything. Anyway...Why were you about to jump off the edge of the roof. Did you wanna die or something?" He quickly shook his head, still scooting away from me. "I'm not going to hurt you, Rio. I'm a ghost. I can't even fucking touch you, alright?" He slowly nodded, getting up to his feet. "Come over here and sit down next to me. I don't know how long this ghost thing will last, but if it doesn't last forever, I want my final moments to be happy ones." He sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes, probably getting kid of tears that must have gathered in them.
"That's what you said when I was about to kill you, Scott." He sat down next to me and sighed deeply. "I'm a murderer, Scott...A murderer. I killed you..." I felt a wide range of mixed emotions. On one hand, I was happy that I was dead. I wouldn't have to worry about anything ever again! I wouldn't have to worry about getting hurt by the people that I loved, I wouldn't have to worry about hurting the people that I loved...I could just be dead. Well, kinda dead. I was a ghost. It was a mix of being dead and being alive, really. "Did it hurt...When you died? Does it hurt now?" He reached out and placed his hand over my own. It could've been the fact that I was dead, or the fact that we were outside in the middle of February, but it felt like I was getting my hand dipped in a freezing cold, iced tea or something. "S-Scott?" I could sense that, from his voice alone, he was about to start sobbing. I looked up at him. His eyes were welling up with tears.
"No...It didn't hurt. It didn't hurt when I died. It...It felt strange. The morphine made my head feel like it was getting blown up with boiling hot air while the rest of my body tingled and relaxed. After that. I couldn't move. It felt like I was just...just stiff. I couldn't physically move...well, anything. Then, after my vision went dark, I found myself standing at the end of my bed in the morgue, staring down at my body. It was so weird...I felt so alive yet at the same time I felt...Dead. But...But it-it--it doesn't physically hurt, no." He shakily nodded, moved his hands away from me, and looked up at the sky. It was night. Apart from all of the spoke pollution that made the sky look a weird, grey colour, you could still see the shining moon and every single twinkling star. It...It was beautiful. The last time that I saw something like this was, well, when the flood happened. Ugh, I still couldn't believe that it had been a whole seven months since that happened. It seemed like yesterday that I got shoved against that wall, underneath the water, while trying to save Porfirio.
My body suddenly stiffened. It...It was the exact same feeling I felt when I was dying a few hours ago. What the heck was going on? My vision suddenly when blank. All I could see was a dark, misty grey colour. I felt like I was falling. Just...Just constantly falling. I felt something hard smack against me, the muffled sounds of screaming, the most horrific pain spreading across my entire torso. I felt a thick, warm, liquid covering my chest and most of my arms, what the heck was going on? W-Where was I? I tried to open my eyes. All I could see was the ceiling of the morgue. I was no longer dead.
I was very much alive.
...........................................................................................................................
Hope You Enjoyed!