I lay curled on my side, my body half-inclined on the thin hospital mattress beneath me. My back faced the doorway, my position remaining immobile, as it had been for the past couple of hours. Casting my eyes downwards, I could still see the figure of a man hunched over in a chair near the foot of my bed, his head resting heavily in both of his hands—like he didn’t have the strength to support it otherwise. Using the palms of his hands, he buried them into his eyes, rubbing away tears.
I shifted uncomfortably, just the tiniest bit of movement, but it alerted Dad’s attention. “Allison,” he spoke, his voice quiet as he attempted once again. “Please, honey—just talk to me.”
My eyes closed as I swallowed the lump in my throat that refused to fully dissolve. I fought the tears, barely able to breathe. Barely able to breathe…
The river seemed to consume me all over again. Images of Maddie popped into my mind, her final look of terror staring back at me, punching me in the gut over and over.
I retched over the side of the bed, my empty stomach kicking my body into spasms. Dad jumped to his feet and hurried to my side, placing an uncertain hand on my back. He patted me awkwardly, probably grateful that I had nothing left in me since my previous hurling episode. He tried to hand me a cup of water, but I pushed his hand away, refusing his kindness.
I didn’t deserve it.
Besides, the IV line stuck in my left arm should be doing its job. I ignored the irritating tug of the needle in my hand and remained on my side, curled up in the fetal position. The evening played out in my mind, accompanying the sick loss of control gnawing on my insides.
Maddie was gone.
They hadn’t found her body yet but the search was still going on, combing the river, and searching the embankments for any signs of Maddie’s survival—but she was presumed dead. It had been over four hours now since the “incident” occurred. My sense of time was a little skewed, though, since I awoke in the hospital bed with no memory of how I arrived there.
A nurse told me an anonymous person had brought me to the Emergency Room, leaving swiftly before anyone could ask him questions. All he had said as he handed me off was that I had almost drowned in the river. With the heavy rainstorm bringing in a surge of victims from other accidents, he had been able to slip away quickly in the chaos.
Lines of memory blurred together, leaving me unable to distinguish one from the other. I vaguely recalled being pulled from the river… and I had sensed that I was in a car, being taken to the hospital… but beyond that, I remembered nothing else of this anonymous rescuer, and had no idea why he chose to hide his identity.
What I did remember was the look on Aunt Heidi’s face as she peered into my hospital room, her face swollen and red as though she’d been slapped repeatedly. What I will never forget, as I struggled with my words, is the wail that escaped her lips, her woeful eyes bearing down on me.
“You were supposed to be watching her!” The agonizing howl bent her in half as she gripped her stomach, ready to collapse. Uncle Bill rushed to her side, tugging her out the door. He glanced once in my direction, perhaps with a look of apology as our eyes met—but it was hard to tell with his face also puffy and stricken with grief.
It was then that I puked for the first time since I arrived at the hospital, wishing the agony and guilt sitting heavily in my gut would also be expelled. Dad had raced into my room, no doubt overhearing Aunt Heidi’s words from the hallway. He had stepped out to call Mom, whose hysterical voice could be heard coming through the speaker on the cell phone.
That was about two hours before this latest episode of dry heaving.
“Is Aunt Heidi gone?” I managed to say, breaking through the dryness in my mouth. I didn’t make eye contact with Dad, though I could see him from my peripheral, standing by the window.
“She’s back at the cabin,” he said, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He paused a moment. “You know she didn’t mean what she said, right?”
I sighed, pulling my lips tightly together again. Whether Aunt Heidi meant to say it or not, she was right—I was supposed to be watching Maddie.
Dad shook his head, reading my thoughts through my expression. “She was just in shock,” he excused, his voice pleading for me to believe him, like he understood the devastating weight of his sister’s words. “She was still digesting the news. You know Heidi loves you, and it’s not your fault, Allie.”
What he didn’t understand—what no one would know—is that it was my fault. I could have saved Maddie. She was within my grasp, holding tightly onto that branch—trusting that I would never let her go, but I did. I fell into the river, and I let her go.
My little cousin, my precious friend…
If Aunt Heidi hated me now, there was no way she’d ever even look at me again if she knew what I did. That would only make Maddie’s death harder to accept if anyone knew that Maddie almost survived—that she should have survived if it weren’t for my mistake.
It was then and there, in that confined hospital room, that I decided to withhold the details. It was better that no one knew. No one else needed to carry the burden of considering what might have been, or the burden of warding off my own personal guilt.
I would carry it alone.