Wish I Could Catch a Breeze // Albert DaSilva

Chapter Seventeen

Sleep.

Gretchen couldn't count how many times she had heard that word in the past two days. Nurses, doctors, her family, and Albert's friends had repeated it to her over and over. The word had lost all meaning to her. They didn't understand. She couldn't sleep. She didn't want to try to sleep. She was exhausted; her body ached for rest. But Gretchen was stubborn. She wouldn't sleep until she knew that Albert was okay.

Only two other people seemed to feel the same way: Race and Monroe. Neither of them had slept either. Not since they brought Albert to the hospital. The three of them just sat around his bed in silence, waiting for their friend to open his eyes. To speak. To smile. To tell them he was okay. But none of that happened. The only movement was his chest rising and falling, signalling that he was still breathing.

When they brought Albert to the hospital, he had quickly been taken into surgery. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours. After what seemed like an eternity, the doctors had brought Albert to a room and allowed his friends to visit. They said he would wake up within a few hours. He didn't. They said it was because of the strong pain medicine he was on. They said he would wake up soon. Gretchen desperately hoped they were right.

She hadn't been back to work. She only went home at night, after visitation hours had ended. She woke up in the mornings, hurrying to be at Albert's side the minute she was allowed to. She hadn't seen much of her family. Normally, her parents would protest. But they saw how Gretchen had changed over the course of two days. They didn't protest.

Eat.

That word had been repeated almost as much. Even though she didn't sleep, Gretchen ate. She ate whatever her mother had cooked, but it was tasteless. She ate snacks that the newsies would bring in the middle of the day, but food no longer appealed to her. She just ate out of habit, knowing she couldn't go as long without food as she could without sleep.

Race and Monroe barely ate either. Gretchen's mother would give her food to bring them each morning. They ate almost mechanically. Nothing was as important as Albert waking up.

Though it was turning out to be a beautiful spring, the sun didn't shine quite as brightly as normal. The colors of the flowers weren't as vivid as normal. The bees buzzing didn't seem as carefree as normal. The breeze was no longer refreshing. There were still children playing with each other in the parks and on the sidewalks, but their laughter was no longer contagious. Everything seemed to have a dim and dismal filter covering it. Nothing seemed normal.

He'll be okay.

That seemed to be repeated the most. Everyone who saw Albert would encourage Gretchen that he would pull through. That he was a fighter. That he was strong and he would make it. As time went on, Gretchen slowly began to doubt that. She hated herself for thinking that way, but she couldn't help it.

The more she thought about it, the angrier she became with herself. Her last substantial interaction with Albert before that night had been the argument with him about Monroe. As Gretchen replayed that conversation in her mind countless times, she regretted the way she never let Albert explain himself. She had overreacted. She had wildly accused him of something because she was insecure about their relationship. It had been a ridiculous argument. The more she watched Monroe sitting next to Albert, the more she realized how wrong she had been. Monroe looked at Albert with love, but not romantic love. Not in the slightest. They were best friends. Nothing more. How could Gretchen have been so stupid?

She doubted it, but she hoped that Albert would wake up. She had never wanted anything more. She needed to apologize. She needed to thank him for saving her from a potentially life-threatening altercation. She needed to hear his voice, look into his eyes, hold his hand. Gretchen would give everything she had for Albert to do something. Anything.

Breathe.

That was all Albert could do.