Steal my Heart.

74

We went rushing to the hospital. Alastair rode at top speed. He wasn't crying, but was very close to it. I wanted to hold all his pieces together. He was breaking apart. I held on tightly to him and we stopped in front of K.A.V Hospital. Getting down, he pushed away everyone from his path and ran to the fourth floor with me slowly following behind him.

Asking for directions and looking around, we reached Stuart. He was being operated upon. Alastair impatiently held the doctor's shoulders and asked him,"Please doctor, please, tell me how is he? Stuart York? The accident victim who is in here right now?"

The doctor paused slightly and answered,"He's critical right now. We really can't say anything."

I saw the most heartbreaking sight of my life right then. He collapsed on a nearby seat. Keeping his head in his hands, he shook, shoulders sagging. I held his hand, kneeling down in front of him. His eyes were red, his hair a jumbled mess by continuously running his fingers through it. He was drenched in sweat and for the second time, I saw his eyes filled with tears. He looked defeated. Lost.

"It's okay." I croaked. My voice was hoarse due to controlling my tears. One of us had to stay strong. "I'm here. He'll be okay. All of it. It's alright. Stay strong baby, hold yourself."

I was now standing between his legs. He wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulders. I could feel my top getting warm and wet due to his tears. I couldn't stop after that. Tears flowed through my eyes, free and openly and trailed along my face. It was devastating. Destroying. To see him like this.

He got up after a while and went to the washroom. I asked the ambulance peons who got him here.

They said,"He was driving a car. A truck came from the front and he swerved to avoid crashing with it. The truck went its way but his car rammed into the side railing. It was a mangled mess. He's been critical ever since."

I gasped. He must have gone through a lot of pain. He should survive. I feel a painful cloud passing through my heart. He has to survive.

I hear footsteps echoing down the hall. I turn around to see. Roland. And Mel? Gosh. They're holding hands. Does this mean...

"Hi." Roland says breathlessly. "Where's Alastair?"
"Gracie." Melissa wraps her arms around me and enveloped me into a hug. This feels so good. Alastair staggers from the washroom and on seeing him, Roland hugs him tight. Bad times make people come closer.

"Mel? Are you and Roland...?" I stop.
"Together. Yes." She says, smiling so brightly that the depressed atmosphere lightens up a bit.

I'm about to go into a lecture on how everything is happening too quick but then I let it be. Now isn't the time, and she's so happy. I go to the canteen and get some sandwiches. I give it to Alastair. He refuses to eat.

I sit down next to him and feed it into his mouth. He grunts but takes it in.
"What if something happens to him Grace?" He asks me deadpanned.
I don't even begin to imagine that. Losing your best friend is a cruel thing. I can't imagine losing Mel any day, that too like this. And Stuart and Alastair, they're more than friends. They're like brothers.

"Nothing will happen to him." I say, not sure if I believe my own words.

•••

It's late midnight right now. I am pacing around the dark, empty hospital corridors when I see a figure sitting quietly at the far end.
Scary as it is, I go there and check out who it is.
Ivy.

Of course. Her love is on the deathbed right now, and she's here, blank in the dark. Cautiously, I walk over to her. Like she's fragile, and any sort of touch might just hurt her badly. I sit next to her and look at her face. The tears have dried up and streaks mark her face.
"Ivy are you okay?" I ask, rather stupidly.

"What a stupid thing to ask Grace." She says, her voice a bland version of her original melodious voice.
"I'm sorry." I say.
She shrugs and says without no emotion at all. "You don't need to be sorry."

I just let go and sit back with her, staring at the blinds in the window in front of us.

"He was always so stubborn you know." Ivy says,"I've told him so many times not to drive at a fast rate, but does he ever listen to me? I'm glad he atleast put on his seatbelt. I'm not going to talk to him Grace, let him at least wake up for now."

Is this how people talk when their loved ones leave them? Reminisce about memories? Do only memories remain?

•••

I open my eyes groggily. I haven't realized but I've slept on the wooden bench outside Stuart's room. I'm somehow entangled, I look around to see Roland is sitting on the bench straight, his eyes closed. Mel is leaning onto him, snoring lightly. And I had kept my head on Mel's lap,

Someone ruffles my hair. I immediately get to my senses. I recognize his touch.
"Are you okay?" I ask, stroking his cheek lightly.

"Yeah, thanks for being there." He says.
I smile. "I anyways can't stay away from you."

"You're the sunshine in my anyways dark life. Thanks for being here in my screwed up stuff."

"All of it is mine." I lean to kiss him but then I remember I've not brushed. I distance myself from him. He just might leave me and run away. How do couples who wake up and kiss do it? I hurry away to the washroom.

Back from it, I see all of them talking to the doctor. He says something and they rush in to check on Stuart. I come from behind.

The sight scares me. He's all bandaged up and quiet. His face is bruised and blue where there are no bandages. There are a lot of machines connected and apart from his rhythmic, heavy breathing, no sound can be heard.
Mel is holding onto Roland and Alastair is just staring. Ivy is crying and holding his hand, talking to him.
Do broken people look like this?

I myself am in utter horror. I keep my hand on Alastair's shoulder and he turns back and hugs me tight. I look over his shoulder at Stuart.

You have to wake up. All of them, they'll be destroyed if you don't.

The nurse motions for us to come outside. The five of us go there.
"We can save him. But he needs a blood transfusion for that." The doctor says grimly.

"We're ready to do it. Just tell us which blood group." Alastair says hastily.
"Your friend here has a rare blood type. He has B negative. Do any of you possess the same?" He asks.
We all look at each other helplessly.
A familiar female voice says from behind us,

"I'll donate my blood, our groups are the same."

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