eighteen

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Amelia Shepherd 

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All air leaves my lungs as my knees hit the floor, my heart crushing against the weight of the fear for the young girl. 

"Eliza," I cry out, crawling towards her eagerly. 

I place my head over her chest, listening for any sign of life--whether it's a simple breath or a glimpse of a heartbeat. 

Her heart beats faintly against her chest, extremely slow, but still beating. 

"We need to get her to surgery." I panic, lifting her head from the ground to check if there is any remaining blood in her mouth. 

"Amelia," Alex shakes his head, not sure what to say or do. "The only thing we can do at the moment is to bring her to the PICU and hook her up on a ventilator." 

My heart drops, and I can feel my jaw slackening. 

I open my mouth in protest, but my words seem to be stuck to the roof of my mouth. 

"Amelia," Jo says softly, grabbing my attention. "She's most likely going to need to be on life support." 

"No," I shake my head in protest, nausea swirling in my stomach. "She's not. Why would you even say that?" I spit. 

Alex exchanges a glance with Jo, a tense aura radiating through the room. 

"Help me, goddammit!" I scream, scooping the girl in my arms as they gape at me unresponsively. "She's dying, do something!" 

Alex rips the girl from my arms, sighing through his teeth as he sprints with her lifeless body out of the door to hell knows where. 

My body sinks to the floor, a cry of desperation leaving my lips. 

She's dying. 

She's dying. 

She's dying. 

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