~Stacy's Pov~
I sat there alone, watching the clock as the bright red second hand made it's way around the clock emitting small ticking sounds as it did. I didn't know what to do, or how to occupy myself rather. Sitting here, waiting nervously for anything to happen. Since I'd been here I'd seen no one, no doctors, nurses or anyone other than the person who sat at the counter on the other side of the room. I assumed she kept control of whether or not the door allowing access into the ER was locked or unlocked, but it also seemed like she was filling out some paper work, a gloomy look on her face that showed that she was tired and her shift was probably about to be over.
The scenes of what happened continued to replay in my mind, and all I could think of is what I could've done, what I could've said to keep this from happening. I could've just went with him, then Joey wouldn't have to be hurt like this. I could've stopped Joey, I could've kept him from going out there, but I just stood there like an idiot and let it happen. I could've reacted faster, I could've looked out for Joey rather than just watch him. I could've just stayed in bed. I should've just said no to Joey, then none of this would've happened and no one would've found out.
"Excuse me," a cop called, walking up to me, pulling me from my thoughts, "are you Ms. Hi-Stacy?" I nodded, sitting up in my seat to focus on the two policemen in front of me. "We'd just like to ask you a couple questions about what happened, if that's alright," he explained. "Okay," I responded simply, my voice dry. "What were the events you saw leading up to Joseph Graceffa getting shot?" he asked, folding his hands together. "Um...I heard a knocking at the door so I went to go see who it was, it was my ex-boyfriend. I don't know how it was him, he was supposed to be in jail, or at least that what I was last told, but he talked to me and asked me to take him back, but I refused and he got mad. Then Joey woke up and came to where I was talking to him, and he went out, I told him not to, but he went anyway, then my ex came out of seemingly nowhere, then he shot Joey and he left," I explained quickly not wanting to think about it anymore. "And what's the name of your ex-boyfriend?" the other officer asked. "Shaun Warner," I sighed, he nodded, writing down on the small notepad he held in his hand. "M'kay, that's all, thank you," one of them said, and then they both left, and I was back alone again.
"STACY!" David called as he burst through the sliding doors of the room. "Are you okay? What happened? Is Joey okay? What happened?" he began to spam me questions as he made his way over to me, plopping down in the seat next to me. Meghan came in slowly behind him, she offered me a blanket that she had with her, but I didn't take it, I wasn't at all tired, and even if I was, sleep was the last thing that was on my mind. I still don't understand what happened, or how it happened, but I explained to them all that I saw, up to the point where I got here.
"Did he hurt you?" David asked, I shook my head, not recently. "I'd much rather he'd have hurt me than Joey, Joey didn't deserve that. He was just trying to keep me safe and he may've just gotten himself killed," I sighed, looking down at my lap. He shushed me, "Don't think like that Stacy. He was trying to keep you safe because he loves you, he loves you so much, and he's gonna be alright. Have the doctors told you anything about him?" I shook my head, I still have yet to see one, and that kinda scares me.
"I tweeted," Meghan says, breaking the temporary silence. David looked down at his phone, probably checking to see exactly what she tweeted. "Please pray for Joey, he's in the hospital," he read aloud. "I don't think you should put any other information out, I think that's all that they should know right now," I said quietly, looking at the tweet myself, and looking at the responses. A lot of them were asking what had happened and such, but there were some that were jokes and mean comments that I noticed too. I don't know why they're directed towards me, maybe they think it's my fault. But they aren't wrong.
