*from my Tumblr*
www.graceelizabeththefab.tumblr.com (Magcult Blog)
www.graceelizabeththeclassy.tumblr.com (Photography Blog)
Shawn Mendes Imagine
I got the call. I dropped the phone. I ran out of the house. I didn’t care.
It was 11:00. It was dark. I didn’t care.
My feet ached. My heart burned. I didn’t care.
Shawn could be dead.
*flashback*
I were listening to music in my bedroom, lazily doodling in an old notebook from elementary school. I would occasionally look outside to see the pretty landscape in the warm summer air at 8:00. I kept smiling to myself. When I would glance back down at the page in front of me, I would notice how many times I’d written his name… too many to count.
Shawn. *sigh*
His voice. His eyes. His smile. His body. His personality. His presence. Him. He was all I ever wanted. He was all I’d ever need. He was perfect for me, and I hope he knows how much he means to me. I honestly don’t think I would be able to live without him, not just as a boyfriend, but as a genuine best friend. He was one of the only people that had really ever scrupulously cared about me. He was coming over today.
I pushed myself off the bed and headed outside to my backyard. He should be here soon.
I checked the time on my phone. 8:15. Where was he? He was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago. He was probably just running late.
*8:45*
Where was he now? Shawn was never late… at least not this late.
*9:00*
Did he just forget? No. He couldn’t have just forgotten. He would’ve replied to my texts and phone calls.
*9:30*
What’s going on?
*10:15*
Shawn…
*10:45*
Is he hurt? Did something happen to him?
*end of flashback*
I threw myself into the driver’s seat of my truck and sped off towards the hospital. Shawn had gotten into a fatal car accident on the way to my house. He was currently in the Emergency Room, where he had to have immediate surgery to get large chunks of glass out of his chest area and to get his six broken ribs fixed. One of his tibias was broken too, along with a fractured wrist and a severe concussion. It was a miracle that he was still alive.
I rushed into the lobby where Shawn’s mother and father sat, along with Cameron, Nash, Taylor, Carter, Jack, Jack, Hayes, Matt and Bart sat. They all gave me nervous looks. The tears were dripping down my cheeks ever so fast. I just needed to know that my baby was okay. I collapsed onto one of the seats and cried.
We were waiting for what seemed like hours until a doctor finally came out of the door.
“Shawn Mendes?” he asked. Everyone in the waiting room stood. He looked around and settled his gaze on Mr. and Mrs. Mendes.
We all had anxious looks on our faces.
“Shawn is… very… fragile. He’s alive, thank God, but it is going to be a long time until he is back to full health. He has six broken ribs; his left tibia is broken, left wrist fractured, and a huge concussion. He’s awake. We’ve been able to take out all of the glass that was shattered into his chest, but he’s got over forty stitches around his chest area.”
The boys nodded. Mrs. Mendes cried and Mr. Mendes took her outside for some fresh air. I stood there somberly.
“May I talk to him?” I asked the doctor. He looked hesitant, but decided to let me go, based on the puppy dog look on my face.
I pushed the door open.
“Hey there,” I said to the broken boy on the bed.
“Hey,” his voice said. It was scratchy, not the kind that should be coming out of a 15 year old boy.
There was nothing to say. I stared at him, then stared at the floor. My tears dripped down, but soon stopped. I pulled a chair up to the side of his bed and sat. His eyes looked over at me.
“I love you,” he whispered. Even his whispers were scraggly and forced.
“I love you, too,” I said. I held onto his hand. And we sat there.