Post by The Moon & Antarctica on Mar 31, 2006 4:15:06 GMT
CRIMSON TEARS
Chapter 1: The Beginning
Chapter 1: The Beginning
You never really want to entertain thoughts like that. But when you're put into that kind of position, you never really stop thinking about it. Eventually you "get over" the fact that it WILL happen, and you start thinking about WHEN it will happen. Can you live like that? What kind of a job will you be able to get?
After dismissing these excruciatingly important questions as "details," you begin to wonder about the petty things. Like exactly who will do it in the first place. Will it be some random stranger? Will it be someone you know? Will it be you?
Once you realize that these things really aren't worth thinking about, you try to push your brain back into a more "civilized" mode. You begin to think about what you'll be doing at the time. Will you be sleeping? Will you be eating? Will you be laughing? Will you be crying?
When it happened to me, I was shopping.
I was just about to up in the elevator. My cell phone rang, and I politely stepped out. I didn't want to bother anyone on the elevator, you know.
When I saw who it was, my heart skipped a beat and I held my breath.
"Hello...?"
When the police chief had told me the news, I immediately broke down, in the middle of the store. I let out a terrified cry of agony. I didn't know what to do, all those thoughts that I tried to push back all came slamming into me now. How was I going to live without you? How would I do anything without you?
The people around me didn't know what to do. They didn't know what was happening. They all just stopped and stared. And I didn't care. I had just lost my husband, my friend, my lover, my confidant, my everything. The police chief had said that he was shot while working undercover, and that I'd better get over to the hospital before he... you know.
I got in my car and drove as fast as I could. I had to get to the hospital to see him one last time. I tried to close my mind, I tried to shut off the memories, I tried to seal my tear ducts, but to no avail.
I made it to the hospital and parked in an "ambulance only" zone. They would probably tow my car but I didn't care. It was the closest spot and I wasn't going to search for somewhere to park while my husband was dying.
I slammed the car door shut, yanked open the hospital door, ran to the desk, and screamed at the nurse to tell me what room he was in. She faltered a little under my tirade and didn't even ask me if I was family, she just told me the number: 103. I'll never forget that number.
I sprinted down the hall and got a little lost, but then I realized that I was heading in the right direction anyways. My cell phone started ringing, but I ignored it and kept pushing on.
I finally came to his room and as I threw open the doors, I let out a cry of grief. I didn't need a doctor to tell me that he was already dead.
But there stood a doctor, with a sad face and a stethoscope, ready to hand me his bill.
"I tried to call you a moment ago but you didn't answer..." The doctor patted me on the shoulder in some strange attempt to connect with me and silently shuffled out of the room.