Lost Cause

Holding On For Dear Life

-2 week's since the shooting-

It's been 2 weeks since the shooting, since my world crumbled down around me. Maddie moved in with me at mine and Matt's home, no one trusted me to be by myself at the minute and truth-be-told I didn't trust myself either. 

Both me and Maddie have been dragged back and forth through police interview, Tom has been taken off the case due to it now being deemed as personal and has instead been moved onto some big murder inquiry; a series of bodies were found all being murdered across a 40 year period (suspected to be the same killer) so now there is a huge scale investigation spanning across 4 forces. All he's doing is trying to keep himself busy.

Maddie still hasn't spoken about what happened while she was away but I can see it in her eyes that she is scared. Scared of what I don't know. She was washing up the other day and as I came into the kitchen I could see her reflection in the window; her eyes were glassy and her face captured pure terror and she stood stock still, unable - or unwilling -  to move. I then gentle placed my hand on her shoulder but she violently flinched back near enough punching me in the face.

Mum and Dad are coming over again tonight and staying as long as they want, I'm really not bothered who's in the house and who's not. The only person I want in the house is Matt, my Matt and no one else, but the longer he's in the coma the less likely it is that I'll get him back.

Sighing I scrubbed the tears from my cheeks and folded the letter into the envelope. Every week since Matt was shot I wrote him a letter, so if- when he wakes up he can hear about all the little things he missed.  All the little things we we're meant to experience together, gently I placed the letter into the box with the others and snuggled into the mass of white, crisp, clean covers of the bed- the bed that was too big just for me, too cold without him. To cold without my Matt, the only part of my broken heart left beating and even he was slowly fading away from me.

-3 week's since the shooting- 

I sat in the high backed chair next to Matt's hospital bed, chatting to him about my day - stopping in the places where I knew he would say something. I'd imagine what he would say too, I'd hear it they way he would say it or the way he would laugh at it. Those things never truly leave you, the finely tuned pieces of memory that allow you to complete the image of a person and not just paint it; but to feel it, see it, touch it- engage with it, no, relive it.

I stopped my whittering and looked at my husband- my here but not here husband. I took in his thinned and angular face, the weight loss showing most predominantly there; I absorbed every detail of him from the lines by his eyes to the dimple in his chin. My eyes hazily travelled down to his arms scanning over every faint silver line I knew was buried there in the skin, recounting the stories he told me about they're causes right down from the arguments to the disappointments, and I began to wonder if those marks were erased if they were never made, would we be here now in this pityful downfall of horrific events? 

-7 week's since the shooting- 

"No you can't please there has to be something else you can do." I pleaded with the doctor.

"Mrs Jameson, I'm sorry but we have no choice. His body will not sustain on the life support any longer." The doctor's sad and sorry eye's flicked up and met mine for instant before lowering themselves again.

"But he's still alive." I whispered, my voice thick and cracking from un-fallen tears.

"Matt was dead the minute the bullet pierced his skin, I'm sorry but this is for the best." My body fired up with a rage I had not felt since my teenage years as I forcefully stood up from the chair.

"Call yourself a doctor, you're meant to save people that's your job. Not letting them die." I flung the office door open and tore through the winding halls to Matt's room, I took in the scene from the large glass window in the wall. Everyone was saying their goodbyes, crying sharing final memories and funny stories about the person they were about to loose. Mum looked up and saw me through the window, a few words were exchanged before everyone started file out the room.

"Take as long as you want darling." Dad murmured as him and mum pulled me into a hug. Once released I walked through the door and sat down in the high backed chair and told him about my day for the last time.

-4 hours later-

I placed one final kiss on his lips, brushing away the salty tears which had fallen onto his skin from my eyes.

"Goodbye my sweetheart, I'll never stop loving you." I said so quietly no one but me and him could hear- it was intimate it was like the 'I love you's' exchanged around the family dinner table, like the morning kisses and late night hugs no one else knew but us. It was for no one but us.

I finally stepped away and into the loving but cold embrace of my parents- they didn't hold the love for me Matt did. No one ever will.

The doctor slowly walked over to overflowing cables Matt was connected to and started to disconnect them my eye's were glued to the heart rate monitor watching as his heart stopped as he flat lined -as I flat lined with him. The resonating beep overwhelmed my senses as it hit me.

It finally hit me. He was gone.

Gone.