yes, I wrote this while having tummy troubles. yes, I sobbed. yes, I was on my period. and yes, I listened to Long Way Down the entire time.
Westley (womp womp)
This can't be happening again.
Casey's okay.
This can't be real.
Casey's alive.
This is all a dream.
Casey alright.
None of this is real.
Those thoughts loop through my mind as I push open doors and race up stairs, tripping multiple times in the process. My brain spins, unable to process anything happening. I keep moving, no matter how many tears and thoughts haze my vision.
The moment I reach the roof of the tall, familiar building, I look around with a cloudy mind. My head whips around, frantic to find my boyfriend. Where is he? He didn't jump, did he? Is he even here? Did I drive this way all for nothing? Where is he?
A wave of relief washes over me at the sight of Casey's collapsed body being on the building and not on the sidewalk below. He's inches away from the edge, so I don't want to imagine what would've happened if...
I fall to my knees, shaking Casey's body. No movement. No sounds. Nothing. I stare at the broken glass around his body and the blood leaking from the back of his head. My stomach sinks further and further, the ugly truth threatening to break through.
"Casey, please, wake up. I love you." I press my ear to his chest, struggling to hear thudding over my cries. Unable to calm down, I slap my hand against his neck, searching for any indicator that he's alive. That his heart is still pumping. That he's okay and not... "Casey, wake up."
I gasp at the faint throb in Casey neck, which seems to be slowing by the second. Hope fills me, not much, but enough to make me grab his shoulder and shake him again. Again, no movement or sounds. He continues laying there, life draining away.
"Baby, please, wake up," I beg. But part of me knows he can't hear me. Will he ever hear my voice again? Will I ever hear his? "Casey, please."
Struggling to think clearly, I reach for my phone. My fingers shake and mistype the 3 numbers, wasting time. My eyes remain on Casey's stomach, watching the subtle rise and fall. The longer I stare, the slower and less frequent the movement becomes.
"What's your emergency?"
"He's...he's..." I suck in a breath, my hand shaking around the phone. More sobs spill from my mouth as I shake my boyfriend's lifeless body. He's gone. He's gone. He's gone. "Fuck."
"Sir, can you please tell us your location?"
"Roof." I say. My mind is too hazy to try remembering the exact address of this random building. Sucking in a breath, I attempt to give a better description. "Of a building." I force my tongue to untie itself, releasing more words. "On main street. Across from the yoga studio."
"Okay, sir, an emergency vehicle will be there in under a minute."
A minute? What if a minute is too late? What his pulse stops in under a minute?
The second I hang up, I reach to feel Casey's neck again. My fingers glide around, urgently searching for the throb. Realization strikes me when I can't find it. My biggest fear settles into my guts as reality settles in.
No. No. No
It was just there. Where is it? Where did it go? Does this mean...
"Fuck! No, no, no, come back. Please, come back to me." I press against his stomach, waiting to feel his diagraph fill with air. It never does, though. And I'm not unsure if it will again. Blubbers and pleads come out of my mouth, and I'm not sure who I'm talking to. "I need you here Casey. You can't leave me. Please, don't leave me."
