𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙽𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗

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"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?"

It's only when she says hello for the third time I remember to breathe, my hand shaking with the phone pressed against my ear.

"Hello?" she says again, her voice leaking with annoyance.

I blink, a burn building up in my eyes.

My chest is heavy and clogged with guilt, I can't even breathe. I don't know where to start?

"Is anyone there?"

Just another prank call, comes a disembodied voice.

It's not a prank call. I should tell her, but I don't know where do I start?

"I- I,"

I'm stuttering. Why am I stuttering? I don't stutter. I need to say something, he's in pain. It's all your fault Kira.

"Hello?"

Randall fists his hands against his chest, face blood red as he rolls from side to side, writhing in pain. The veins on his forehead and neck look like they're going to explode.

It's worse when he starts groaning, fisting his shirt like it's burning him, like he wants to take it off. What do I do?

"He can't breathe." I finally let out. I shake my head, crying, "He's not breathing."

"Okay, ma'am. I want you to listen to me." She says.

I shake my head. "He's in pain."

I want to help him. Do I go near him, do I touch him? What if I make things worse?

"He can't breathe," I cut her off, slowly backing into a corner. Why does this feel familiar?

Painfully familiar.

I'm almost out of the room, so close to the door when realisation strikes me; he's gonna die.

"Ma'am," she says carefully. "I need you to listen to me. . ."

She says something about paramedics and making sure he's in a comfortable position but not to be too rough with him.

Then suddenly, he stops.

Everything stops.

My heart skips a beat and falls to the pit of my stomach.

There's no movement from him, he is so still, flat against the carpet. It's almost as if he's actually dead.

I sink to the ground, unable to comprehend what's happening. The dispatcher's voice is distant, for a moment I forget about her.

"Can you check for his pulse?"

Crawling towards him, I hold his weightless wrist in my hand and stifle a cry, searching for the faintest beat.

"I-I c-cant feel anything."

My nerves get out of control, my teeth clattering as goosebumps rise all over my body. What if he is dead?

I can't do this.

Please don't be dead.

Despite the paramedics handling everything and reassuring me, I can't leave his side. I get into the ambulance, scared to let go of his hand.

When Celia gets to the hospital, she makes me wish that I'd never crossed paths with her sons, her electric blue eyes accusing and full of anger.

I might just be the one who's going to die today.

A painful tug at my heart forces me to look up as Fiona arrives next. She leaves six empty chairs between her and Celia for safety and I can't blame her.

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