Page 58
Author: Kirsty Moseley
Anger was burning inside me making my stomach shake and I could almost taste the hatred in my mouth. I wanted to grab the knife that was in the middle of the kitchen and cut him into little pieces, but I needed to stay with Clay, I couldn’t leave him, the police would lock Blake up and throw away the key for this. All of the sympathy and pity that I had built up for him since I arrived at his house was gone now; all I was left with was raw hatred.
I looked back at the cop who had been holding me; he was talking quickly into his walkie talkie as he made his way over to where Clay and I were on the floor. “Please help him,” I begged as I squeezed Clay’s hand.
The cop nodded, “We will, the ambulance is on its way. ” he said as he gripped Clay’s shirt and lifted it. I winced, unsure as to whether I could look and see the wound on his body, but I just couldn’t keep my eyes in check. They wandered down there of their own accord and what I saw made my heart break even more. I swallowed loudly and forced my face to remain emotionless, I couldn’t break down, I needed to be strong. There was a deep, ragged gash on the middle of his lower back, just above the waistband of his jeans. Blood was flowing freely from it, and was pooling in the curve of his back.
“Get me a cloth or something,” the cop ordered, nodding his head towards the kitchen cupboards.
I dragged my eyes away from the most horrifying and heartbreaking thing I had ever seen in my life, I pushed myself off of the floor, running over and pulling open every single drawer until I found the ones with the towels in. I grabbed a handful of them and ran back to Clay as fast as I could. The cop was looking at Clay’s side now; he took the towels and pressed one against the wound on his back as he clenched his jaw looking slightly worried. I looked at him pleadingly; please don’t let Clay die, please!
I looked back at Clay as his breathing became even shallower and more ragged. His face was relaxed, like he was sleeping, peaceful and perfect, apart from the slight red tinge to his jaw from fighting with Blake. I kissed his nose lightly, “I love you baby, you’ll be fine I promise. Tomorrow I’m going to make you chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast, I’ll even burn them slightly just the way you like,” I whispered, smiling sadly as I squeezed his hand again.
I could hear the cop talking to one of the others, something about a punctured lung and how he needed a chest tube quickly before he went into cardiac arrest, he sounded slightly panicked as he asked how long the ambulance was going to be. The other guy was helping him work on Clay but I couldn’t take my eyes off of his peaceful face. I traced my finger along the bridge of his nose, the curve to his lip, his cheekbone.
After what felt like just a few seconds someone grabbed me and pulled me away from Clay. I gripped his hand tighter as I thrashed trying to get back to him, I didn’t want to leave his side, not for a single second incase he woke up.
“Ma’am, the medics are here, you need to move and let them do their job!” Someone said sternly in my ear.
I looked around and noticed that there was indeed two new guys in blue uniforms. They immediately started fussing over Clay, I tried to block out what they were saying, I didn’t want to hear that because it would make me lose the slight control I had over myself. I just focused on Clay’s face as they cut his shirt off of him, prodding at his body, I whimpered when I saw one of them grab a scalpel and a little piece of tubing, heading towards Clay’s already bloody chest with it.
After the longest most painful time of my life, they finally agreed that he could be moved. Apparently the tube that they had inserted had worked and was helping him breathe, his heart rate was strong. One of them said the most beautiful word I had ever heard in my life, the best word that had ever been invented in the history of the world: stable.
I felt my body relax, I laughed quietly to myself and looked at the ceiling repeating the words thank you over and over in my head. But the medics still looked really worried, an intense concentration on their faces as they discussed how best to move him without causing any more damage. One of them ran off and came back with a spinal board and neck brace. I frowned, not really understanding what was going on. They’d said he was stable, so why would they still be looking so tense about it?
The cop that was holding me turned me around to face him, “Ma’am, is there someone I should call? His parents? Yours?” he asked looking at me sympathetically. I looked back over my shoulder as they rolled Clay onto the yellow board strapping him in with little black straps. Why were they being so careful? “Ma’am?” I felt pressure on my arm and I looked back at the cop, he seemed to be waiting for me to answer something.
“Is he going to be ok? They said he was stable, that means that he’s ok, right?” I whispered.
He smiled sadly, “They’re doing everything they can, they’ll know more once he gets to the hospital. But if you could just tell me if there is someone I should call…. ” He trailed off looking at me expectantly.
I guess Clay’s parents should be told; I smiled at him gratefully and reached into my pocket pulling out my cell phone. I was barely holding on to my sanity and if I had to tell them what happened I think I would lose it and I couldn’t do that. I held the phone out to him, “Clay’s parents cell phones are in there under Linda and Richard. My parents are in there under mom and Brian. ” I muttered looking back to the medics as they put the last couple of straps on Clay’s lifeless body.
“Ok, I’ll call them and tell them what happened and tell them to come to the hospital and meet you. Are you going in the ambulance or do you need a ride?” he asked watching as they lifted the stretcher off of the floor.
I quickly stepped forward keeping pace with them, not wanting Clay out of my sight for a second. “Can I come with you?” I begged the medic.
He smiled and nodded, “Sure Ma’am. ”
I trailed along next to Clay, sitting in the little seat opposite him in the ambulance, trying to stay out of the way while the medic inserted needles into the back of his hand, attaching some clear fluid to the IV. I just sat there emotionless, I didn’t know what to do, what to think, what to say, so I did nothing. I thought nothing. I just refused to acknowledge how bad this situation was, refused to acknowledge how the medic’s forehead was creased and how his movements were a little tense. Clay would be fine; he wouldn’t leave me on my own.
When we got to the hospital, Clay was rushed in with about five people all fussing over him as they sped him through the hallways and into one of the emergency rooms. I pushed the door open wanting to go in with him, but a nurse put her arm around my shoulder smiling sympathetically at me. I wanted to scream at her to stop smiling like that, everyone was being so sad and worried, so sympathetic and apologetic, it was scary. I didn’t want to think about what could happen, all I would let myself think was that Clay would be fine and tomorrow I would apologize over and over for this happening, and he would kiss my nose and tell me that it wasn’t my fault and that he loved me. That was all I would let myself think about for now because the thoughts I had at the back of my brain were actually too horrifying to acknowledge.
“If you could just wait outside while the doctors are looking at him. Someone will be out to talk to you as soon as possible, ok?” she smiled and guided me over to a row of plastic chairs off to one side.
I nodded weakly and sat down, trying to keep my breathing steady and my heart at a normal pace. Everything was fine; I just needed to keep control of myself because behaving like a panicked stupid child wouldn’t help anyone in this situation, especially not Clay.
I couldn’t sit still, so I stood up and started pacing the hallway. I looked at each one of the paintings in turn as I walked past, thinking of anything else other than how long it was taking for them to come out and speak to me. Wasn’t the saying, ‘no news is good news’, wasn’t that how it went? So surely it was good that no one had come out yet, I nodded to myself and chewed on my lip. After a couple of minutes the cop from the house turned up and smiled at me sympathetically as he sat down on the chair I had just vacated. He didn’t say anything, just sat there watching me cautiously.
I turned to look at him. “He’s fine, their just being cautious, he’s fine,” I told him sternly. I gulped at how my voice sounded, so thick and husky that it didn’t even sound like mine.
He smiled weakly and nodded, “I’m sure he is Ma’am,”
I nodded in confirmation and switched to chewing on my nails instead of my lip, as I just continued to pace the hallway. My heart was crashing so loud in my chest that it was almost deafening, my stomach twisting, my whole body felt cold, but I put on a smile anyway. I just needed to think positive, if I willed everything to be fine then it would be, and then Clay and I could just go home and have the weekend we had been planning. The lazy weekend where we did nothing but make out and watch TV, the perfect weekend with the perfect guy.
I heard someone crying and I looked up to see Linda and Richard running down the hallway towards me. I smiled reassuringly, but kept my eyes firmly on Richard, Linda had completely lost it and I refused to let her drag me down with her.
“What happened? They said Clay had been stabbed?” Richard asked breathlessly as he gripped my shoulders a little too tight for comfort.
I gulped and nodded, “He did. He’s in there now with the doctors, but he’ll be fine,”
Linda looked at me, her eyes pink and bloodshot. “They said that? Have they been out to speak to you?” she sniffed.
I shook my head, “No they haven’t, but it’s Clay, he’ll be fine. You know him, he’s strong he wouldn’t let something like this hurt him. He wouldn’t,” I stated, my voice sounded surprisingly calm and assured and Linda smiled weakly in response.
I turned and resumed pacing as the cop spoke to them. He was telling them about how they had received a phone call from the principle of the school informing them about what had happened, how they had been dispatched to Blake’s house but they had arrived after Clay and the boys were already fighting. When he got to the part about Blake grabbing the knife I made myself walk further up the hallway so I couldn’t hear it, if I heard it then I would start to picture it, and I couldn’t do that and remain in control.