𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 [✓]

15. Stages (1/5)

g r i e f

This is the first part of a mini-series based on the five stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance). These are pretty much the epitome of sad so be ready. :]

I slid to the ground, gasping for air. This couldn't be real. This wasn't happening. Just hours ago, we'd been laughing over something stupid he'd done, playing guitar together, eating popcorn, watching Harry Potter. He'd been braiding my hair.

Now, he lay unmoving on the hospital bed. The continual drone of his heart rate monitor filled through the room before a nurse shut it off.

"I'll let you have some time with him." The door shut behind her.

Svea started to cry, muffling her sobs in Carrie's chest. Esther still held Jonah's cold hand, her uneven, ragged heaves of breath taking up all the airspace. Zeb slumped motionless in his chair, a shell shocked expression swathing his face. Tim crossed to Esther and put an arm around her shoulders, silent tears falling down his face.

The hospital floor was cold under my fists. The pattern swam before my eyes but I wasn't crying. How could I cry when Jonah wasn't gone? The doctors were lying, my best friend couldn't just be dead. We had plans for college together, had finally saved up enough to go to Harry Potter world this Summer. There was no way that Jonah was gone because he was stronger than that. It couldn't just be a car -a fucking car- that killed him.

It was all simply a misunderstanding. He'd sit up in a minute or two, complaining of being sore, going to comfort his siblings, kiss his mom, hug me.

I lifted my gaze from the floor after what seemed like a lifetime. My limbs were heavy but I dragged myself up to Jonah's bed and sat on the edge. "Jonah?" I whispered.

"Jonah, buddy, you've gotta wake up now. You've got us all sorts of worried." My voice shook and my hands followed suit as they cupped his face. He was cold. I should get up and get him another blanket or he'd catch a chill. But I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything as I slumped forward into Jonah, resting my head where his heart should be thumping its familiar beat. How many nights had I fallen asleep listening to it? How many times had I been calmed by its soothing rhythm?

It wasn't there.

My chest started heaving as Jonah's had been, my mind whirling a painful cloud of terror.

He wasn't dead. He wasn't just gone.

Nothing would ever make sense if he wasn't there. How was I supposed to live, to even exist if he wasn't with me? He'd been with me from the beginning, from the very start and now... how could the world keep spinning if he wasn't in it?

I'd never existed in a world without Jonah in it. It just didn't make sense.

I think I started sobbing, but my mind seemed to leave me and all it left was a ringing sound echoing in my empty skull. Hands tried to pull me away but I clung to Jonah for dear life, life that should be Jonah's. They ripped me away from him and I was pulled into a chest that should be warm and safe. Instead, it felt alien and terrifying and I ripped myself away, stumbling back into a shadowy corner where I curled myself into a ball as my body was wracked with silent sobs.